WE WERE HERE
The seeds of our past choice lay barren on marsh. Like infertile eggs of mother hen. We despised the sacrifice of Farmers. We have turned round the seasons of the year. But they’ve refused to grow. We made the wrong choice. A new chance is bequeathed upon us. Let’s chart a course for the future we want. Our tragic lots rest on the choice we made. Remember we were here to decide “now”. Shall we because we’re stricken, homeless run…