Hey.... let's do a community poem. Forget all the ideological crap and just make a poetic thread. I'll throw the first lines in.

Dancing dust in light that could have been the sun
A thousand splintered fragments refracting wond'rous dances
simply circumstances when the wheel has been spun;
endless games of chance
that are never lost or won....

Fate is blinded here, it seems
By the same glow that alights auspicious dreams
Inspires the fickle wind, the gust
Caresses twilight's dancing dust

Yet words are history's cheap whore,
and we the doubting shameful Johns,
who profane the very hand of fate,
and malign the sanctity of trust.........,

And if words history's harlots be
What can be said of poetry?
A brutal swing by dead'ning Lust?
Or deft stroke of Aphrodite?

It is a feather in your cap at least,
or a sword in your hand at best
to paint the plight with eloquence,
and become the hand of entropy........