Drift

There was a freedom rider two millennia ago.
His fame & legacy: division; battles to & fro.

For every good there is an evil; create & destruct.
A tome that tows dividing lines insures that they are plucked.

When the strings of DMZs are strummed by those in power…
Their idly pulled peaceful chords cause populi to cower.

Do not buy the bully pulpits touting pacifism.
Whenever there’s push, or shove; they drum the beat of schism.

If all we do is sit on our hands…fearful of big shoes;
We’ll never see that we outnumber foes by ones & twos.