Universal I ~ Philip Brent

Who named our potentates in charge to date
There’ll be others, after we fill our final crate
Will it ever matter who we put atop that slate
Held to the grindstone their egos won’t ablate

We allow them to keep us in a confused state
Rush here, there, back again, as if we are late
Convince us their wants and our needs equate
Beat and kill us constantly; we think it is great

Stop; that is not the way we act, you yell, wait
Taught to fear the other, insult and denigrate
Urged to kill our brother, a prevaricated hate
Yet, all had the same start, have the same fate

Our fears fed, our egos stoked, all to instigate
Spend time, energy, new differences to create
Born with silver spoon or found above a grate
Star stuff all, one whole we form as our estate

Few have most, most, less, how we now relate
Have-not to have more equal, not a new mate
Dealt the same final hand, not open to debate
We‘ll last longest if our conflicts we eliminate

Grasp that thought; please, try to concentrate
Grist to gristle, I offered for you to masticate
Never drawing inside, avoid the ace and eight
Odds grow longer to make our outside straight