We can argue whether

Blood is red or blue

Instead of addressing

The hole it’s spilling out of.

Or we could staunch the flow

By whatever we can find,

Cloth left bleaching in the sun

Just waiting for opportunity

To be dyed by tragedy.

I understand you’re both

Feeling blue and seeing red

But we can mend this over time

So don’t let it all unwind.

– Vagabond Prophet