I hesitate before grabbing the shovel and wheelbarrow, taking it into one of the pins. I lead the horse out to the pasture out back and groan as I step back inside.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
We are not to simply bandage the wounds of victims beneath the wheels of injustice, we are to drive a spoke into the wheel itself. — Dietrich Bonhoeffer