Hazard Lights

The hazard lights of existence blink hopefully and steadily in the interested air. Their red hues hiss at hardened consciences who speed by with excuses on their brains. The cry for help is a danger to the suspecting nowadays. The polarization of the world is the diseased root. As a result, we live in the wary days. The time of trust has passed. We saw its departing shadow, and we spat. The trace of our scorn lies stained in time’s linear cement. We have only to look down to observe our bubbling shame.