Those eyes could be your eyes.
To think one step to the side and a flutter of butterfly wings and it could have been you stepping barefoot into darkness, but its not right?
Those could be your tears.
So we demonise the other we could always have been and separate our humanity into border controls patrolled by machines *error* [not responding]
Batons and tear gas and war machines, media spins and your hand jerks out watching the other fall down the rabbit hole of lies, are you surprised?
This could be your face.
Looking for greener trees chased down by Great Whites in black boots shouting:
“If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face – forever.”