Dispatched

How quickly has it had its day,
The fine idea, whose time has come,
When misdirection leads the way
And its potential is undone.

How many messages are lost
In narrow frames of information,
Making truth and faith the cost
Of cynical manipulation.

Messengers as beacons, thought
More vital than the substance shared;
Projection cracks the vessel sought
To carry more than s/he can bear.

How readily a bridge is burned
When crowds turn on their expectations;
Slower, though, the lessons learned
In reaping failed imagination…

How easily can vision slip
When purchase hires fragile means
And possible becomes unpicked
From opportunity’s bright seams.

1 thought on “Dispatched

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