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Bouquets & Melting Pots

 

Individuals coexisting in unity

A bouquet of different flowers,

Each providing its own beauty

Held together by one hand.

Another inevitable conception

From an obvious state of being,

When discounting the disparities

That such formulas can bring.

Flags and common wealth

And borders, and drones.

Rise temperatures high under

Melting pots and combat zones.

Boiling, but never to congeal

More than the severely

Mundane human habit of

Finding divisions to cling to.

Skimmed away in tax brackets,

Politics, religion and race,

Culture, ethnicity, education,

Acceptable apparel and living space.

Strained into the middle

Of the opposite of coexisting.

So much more different than

The original, out of many one.

Melting pots boil over and

Bouquets die, leaving questions like

Who owns the hand that holds?

And on what grounds unite?

Do the many get to choose?

From the many, one what?

One what?

One what?

 

One foreign policy

One stable economy

One world currency

One governing sovereignty

One god, One aim, One destiny,

One love, One working class, One fallacy

One swith death of privacy, One world wide web,

One against diversity, One united in fantasy

 

Ria – 2015

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