I more often notice. (Original poem)

image by Joshua Earle

I more often notice.

Depth their eyes shallow.

Language tip blunt.

Words do not sting longer

like a bee.

I more often notice.

Flows dry up of  light thoughts.

Blessed are the speeches pour,

The proportions be changed, dilute.

I understand more and more.

all according to one fall ill with,

Deaf-mute-blind.

So far feeds us to satiety.

I clench my fists.

They gradually tame us.

How the cattle munching oats.

On the road to slaughter.

I did not judge you.

I do not deny, I'm no better.

I heed the brothers unto you.

A person is paramount.

We all need to   @breathe3000