Every builder knows
Who builds with wood or brick
No roof can be too sure
No wall can be too thick
A movement of the earth
Or accident of men
That place the building stood
Is empty once again
A potter with his kiln
A sculptor with his hand
They know what they invent
Can soon be dust and sand
They strive with each creation
To fulfill a higher need
No challenge is worth taking
If you’re sure that you’ll succeed
For poets, it’s the same
With all our brains and bluff
At times, we understand
That words are not enough
So I have now to fashion
The words that I can say
To make a person see
When I must look away
The brokering of flesh
The bartering of blood
We crawled out of the ooze
To wallow in the mud?
We’re specks in time and place
Oh! That is absolute
Why must we we work so hard
To make life more minute?
A person’s right to choice
Is something we can’t lose
But tell me there’s a heart
That would this horror choose.
I know there are no words
To make a mountain cry
But hear me if you can
At least I had to try.
