Make me a polytunnel of your peace

You speak as if we are an orchard

And you’d have us all bearing fruits

But it’s one thing to look at the branches

Another the soil at the roots.


You want us to grow and develop

And that’s all very good I suppose

But we can’t really force that to happen

Because fruit just naturally grows.


My hair’s getting longer each minute

Because I try to healthily eat

But I can’t make it do it by wanting

Or stop when it reaches my feet.


Our lives ARE for being productive

But we’re not just “producing or dead”

Let’s not talk of hothousing people

Let’s flourish as free range instead.



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