If there is no middle ground
Then the way is lost
It is hard to see when beaten down
Through the smoke
Know middle ground is there
In the haze
Right behind you
Just obscured
We can speak in absolutes
Hold volatile ideas near and dear
Speak of revolution
Ignoring the tears
We don’t know ourselves
Through the swirl
We cannot see ourselves
With it engulfing us
Sometimes it is better
To move slowly
Through the fog
Feeling that which is around us
Which we cannot see
Waiting until the fog dissipates
Instead of burning it off
Because that which we burn
We sometimes value most
Gene G. McLaughlin 2013
BeardedRiffRaff.Blog 