I have seen the habits of necessity,
Traverse the lengths of many electric poles,
That flash by.
Each one, another segment that goes unheeded.
And as-if to mock evolution, everyone rushes to survive,
Some knowing the truth- but there is no other time-grinder,
Nor dignity-spout that can match the ease of struggling.
When there is no agony of choice, there is none in the chosen.
I have traversed those distances,
That flash by like montages of passed things,
Sat among those who have fleetingly seen,
What flashes by, only to look away or beyond.
Beauty is a luxury that they cannot revel in.
Other things have taken the place of love and beauty,
That drive the world by whip and tong.
And it is to this that they have pledged their duty-
As was done in the White City, to pay a debt of life.
Only to find that the served was living in death.
To be among them, who travel by habit,
To see the joy of a crisp morning, pass by as just another one.
Choice ground to a habit like powder,
Taken every morning with a word of faith.
The world must be free, to revel in their hearts.