Exen

What ground must I run afoot, chasing birds? So effortlessly do they fly my hands, Why must I set them still with idle words, Wrap their wrist with tattered tarnished strands. How can this shelter go on--it withstands, Such a furious storm, such a beating. Steady like old stone, respect it demands, How it weathers such unfair mistreating. Be damned to know love is but fleeting, May the man come to his troubling senses, To pass it off--nothing more than greeting, To see his way and cause no offenses, As the passions are man's one true master, And love in its glory--his single disaster.

And the sky, Bloomed into reds, Clouds whispered past, Dark trees and their leaves. Ears perked to the sound of birds, Flying through the air. Golden rays washed the, Hills with color. I stood there, Juggling my keys in hand, Keen to view the world in a new, Light that I had not seen before. Morning was born and even, Now I felt like a fresh child, Originating from the dirt, Presented upon its face. Questing for understanding and, Reasoning in this, Sorrowful and spitting, Time of trials of, Uniquely focused hatred with, Vicious intend to destroy, What man has worked for, Xenophobes the lot of them, Yet here I stand

The dynamic between core staff, volunteer staff, and the community can at times be pure quality dArama. It's worth noting that for years I've worked pretty hard to remain neutral on community politics. Today, I'm going to shatter that concept. Needless to say, I am extremely politically aware of the inner workings of the deviantART community. I read *a lot* of journals, comments, forums, chat rooms. I have fake accounts. I spy. But I don't spend my time talking politics, instead I focus internally at deviantART designing technologies and implementing understandings with core staff to address the issues I see pop up. It's time to take a mo