Illusion Poem by Uloia Norris Moore

No control
know the ground
on which we walk
Our feet look today
not of the morrow
slightest wind rain fire
control thin-kith

Plants good seed
be it of simple grass
for get not
the sparrow
whom does
need feed
Illusion of the color green
called not greed
Rethink the bricks making
up our path broad swath
not asphalt

Opinion of paths do differ
conventional over traditional
no control
Cost effective no illusion there
people thought govern all
Life death each breath
wrong hand life given unto
no illusion

Yet control no value
hand brings death
to human being
no chance contribute
Something anything to effect
illusion of better life cut
short by said hand
controls hand

No illusion brings
hope chance change
of such is morality
expanded past local
custom
Ignorance cut off illusion
of better life for all
man kind