The brush in my hand is empty of paint

The brush in my hand is empty of paint to color you all the same
And it’s empty of tar to feather you with in some politician’s name
Instead I’ll just use it to dust off the clinging debris of road and fray
So we can sit down and break bread together in hope of a better day

(Royalty-free image from PickPik.)

___

For other musings and oddball ideas, see

A Church More Like Christ (e-book)

– My other recent release! Elements of War (paperback)

– My Amazon Page or Bandcamp Page, or subscribe to my newsletter

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