The way we pass

The way we pass

You don't have to kill them.
You could let them bee.
There are friends in the air.
There are songs in that tree.

You could open your heart.
You could watch them in wonder.
Those are intricate things.
Don't stomp them all under!

Like Santa you stalk,
With a poisonous sack,
While innocents die
From your toxic attack.

We walk through the woods,
Seldom stopping, seldom staring.
We walk through the woods,
Without seeing, without caring.

We walk through the woods without knowing,
Only caring where we're going,
And never knowing where we've been.
The way we pass must be a sin.

U.M.