Everyday I go
out
among the armies
of uniform      sameness
as they do battle
with their      indifference
under a flag of
surrender.
In their need to be different
they manage to all be the
same
    because
every army has its uniform
that they wear in their
need
for acceptance they crusade
under the weight of the cross
     they must bear
as they go marching out of step
to the mythological drum
of their carbon-copy 
dreams.
The different armies don’t wage war
     between each other
being too busy battling
their own inner
demons.
While they go by
different names their
     credos are all the same
and they salute me
     as a brother
when I am, in fact, 
    a spy.