Healing Battle Wounds

All Those Enemies' Minds

Living to get things done – like survival and such –
Some can’t tolerate weakness. Impatient are they
To the world’s sensitivities. Presumably
There is no bad intention. With no need to see
Finer detail, some know but a world that is gray
With some parts of the blue and green but not too much.

Well-prepared to do battle, each day is a fight
For the lone interloper. Not willing to stray
From the tough straight and narrow, with pride some engage
What they sense as the other. The ensuing rage
Follows audible discourse. This must be the way
To survive yet another day and the dark night.

Seeing red isn’t possible but some detect
Full blown redness in others then want to respond
With what humans call hatred. But we cannot see
What it is in our nature that can set us free
From the need for predation. We’re one step beyond
What the beasts have in common. They have some respect.

To politicize warfare is to no one’s gain.
Socially we are triggered by every detail.
Our perception of color in manifold hues
May be much to our detriment if we so choose
To denounce evolution. All that can prevail
Is incompetent vision and ongoing pain.

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