With bare feet and toes deep,
poor men walk and shepherds keep
on dirt that remains the same.
A cattle grazes and swats
at the flies and the paradox.
Gentle beasts. Wild, wild are the tamed.
The poor man is collecting dirt.
Stained with the blues of his collared shirt,
white knuckled martyr, blood red with shame.
The shepherd (shhhhhhh so few of you now,)
is barefoot and still with toes in the ground.
Be brave. The ground we keep remains the same.
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