We laugh and run,
sing and play.
Dance and dream each
day away.
Imagining
comes naturally.
Art, our language.
Verve, our key.
But now our world,
of free joy,
is threatened through
toxic ploy.
A choice to us
they present:
accept the ghosts
or dissent.
The ghosts chose to
join the hoard
of those who had
turned before.
Conforming to
the molds cast:
one becoming
like the rest.
Abandoning
artistry,
desensitized
to beauty.
This same choice they
give us now.
Requiring a
deathly bow.
Take courage all!
Resist their ways,
reject their call
to the world of the expected.
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