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Discussion
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Should we not be growing our own crops?
Should we not be hunting our own food?
Should we not be chopping our own wood?
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Why must we pay for a home, when a home is but a place, a shelter to survive, to stay, to endure the hard times.
Why must everything belong to governments or privates, if it’s all nothing but our mother’s land, sky, sea and climates.
Why am I not allowed to build a place and call it home, for me to stay, for me to grow, as if the land in which I do belongs to someone, when that’s not… how things go.
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The old ways are calling us, they are telling us to come, who will answer and stay for our mother to hold, to hold us and for us to patch her up, to say, “Sorry I was so dumb, we should have cared more.”
All these systems, a silly game to hide the truth, that the Earth, oh she’s not ours to control.
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In arrogance we bathe, forgetting our old ways, drowning in our own illusion of what life must be, with goods and things to drown the call that tells us, “come my child, to life as it was meant to be.”