The flower known as power of a
washed away man taking a stand
as it falls out of his hand
makes its way to neverland
makes its way forever and
it never stops
not on the top
not when it flops
not when it hears the squishy sounds of a mop
cleaning up a mess
made in distress
by a society that cares less
about unnecessary death
than cooking ourselves in a sauna to minimize stress
please help me believe that there’s good in humankind
more than I can conceive