What has reached me
Was never meant to be missed
Even if it was buried beneath
Two mountains deep.
What was not meant for me
Won’t reach me even if
It is firmly lodged between
These two chapped lips.
Merely instruments in
The grand scheme of things.
Cogs in the machine,
Proxy living beings.
Take comfort in knowing that
The people around us
Are there for a reason.
As either Instruments of Fate
Or as a medium,
Agent provocateurs of Hate.
Entirely depends on one’s own
Situational awareness and understanding,
Cognitive strength and perception,
Knowledge and upbringing,
And learned, or innate wisdom.
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