Fear is to tangles, no out

Fear is to tangles, no out-

Brain high, mired up.

Face HIGH, Breath HIGH, Thoughts HIGH-

When TALK, You Get TALKED.

Minus the Gratitude, Birth the MAD-

When sight Rich, comes the END of the BAD.

Down in the blue and green, why?

The Path seems vanished, but extant. 

Fear is to tangles, no out-

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This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world
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