A wise guy once said, "I am the walrus."

He got paid a lot of money once that happened,

but then he redeemed himself because

he used that money to buy a hotel room

and have a sit-in for peace, which everybody

thought was crazy.  But then another guy said,

"I believe in the politics of hope," not disagreeing

with the first guy, but just saying it in his own

Ivy-League educated way.  But then somebody

shot him in a hotel kitchen, cause they thought

he was crazy.  The guy before him got shot

walking home, on his doorstep.  The man

who said, "I have a dream," was killed

by a bullet on a balcony for thinking 

he was the equal of the man who shot him.  

They both had the right to bear arms,

and one of them decided to use it.  They thought

the guy who didn't was crazy.  The guy

he met in India was shot point-blank

for thinking he was equal to a government

that changed the world with the rifle,

and a red and blue piece of cloth.  

They all refused to pick up a weapon.

One refused to eat before doing so.  

Another wrote letters from his jail cells

about how no man should raise his hand

against another in the effort of peace.  

Another wrote songs about peace 

and no one seemed to understand why.  

Now we are among those who have voted 

for hope and peace once more.  But where

will he end up?  How many more lives will it take

for us to realize life is more precious than 

a boundary line, be it political, social, economic

or racial?  Why do we allow fear-mongering

to persist?  Where do we find our spiritual conscience?

How will the world end once again?