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The children sing,
“Armageddon, this is Armageddon,
“Armageddon, the game I like to play!”
I stand to the side.

I’m confused about this value on life –
Don’t prevent its birth –
Don’t legalize early termination –
Yet such deep desire for the end!

Neocons invade our great halls
Screaming war will bring peace –
Embrace Israel
So that Armageddon can begin.

The populous goes crazy –
Jumping, yelling
A frenzy of glee
That Armageddon might come to be.

In mob ferver they blame
Disabled for disability –
Impoverished for poverty –
Religious without charity –
– or Clarity
– or Integrity

The children sing on –
“Armageddon, this is Armageddon,
“Armageddon, the game I like to play!”
My heart cries.

.I want to rise up and scream
“This is wrong, so wrong!”
A futile battle when words are too strong.
I calm; visualizing bubbles of love for all.

A man calls me weak, liberally weak –
He screams, “You expect it to be handed to you –
“Life is hard, always the Powerful rule –
“Accept it and move forward.”

He is a businessman,
White; entitled
Male; entitled
Work capable; valued.

I suggest we are here to do right –
By each other;
By Christian values –
As they are taught.

Not to succumb to our genetic drives –
But to rise beyond the brain
To the heart, the spirit, the divine.
“We will fail,” I say.

He nods.

But we are to attempt –
Then forgive the failing –
Where there is hate, fate, distaste –
Power, rule, righteousness.

“No one’s perfect,” he says.

I nod.

If I forgive your imperfection,
Might you forgive mine too?
Even in my liberal weakness,
From your conservative view?

Without a harsh word,
Nor an evil glare,
He glances my way;
Nods okay.

The children sing,
“Armageddon, this is Armageddon,
“Armageddon, the game I like to play!”
I offer hugs of compassion.

I cannot play, or partake or feign acceptance.
I cannot accept Armageddon is the only way.
I tread carefully to not fuel the flame –
I cannot yell, throw things, emasculate.

I embrace my conservative friend;
We share some commonality –
A hope the children’s game
Becomes an archetype of history.

He nods.