Caught in the undertow of thoughts,

That have swept me off my feet.

Yet while wallowing on my back,

A few thoughts did occur to me.

A few, I have ot admit, are lost.

Seems by intimidation they

Fell by the wayside of life,

But will be resurrected soon.

Suppression of thought

Weakens the fabric.

Allowing it to become torn

And later manipulated.

O let the purveyors of hate

Say what they want, without excuse.

Eventually the wise see the folly

In time and come on strong against it.