3 a.m. society

Three A.M. and sitting on the porch
Marlboro burning slowly in hand
The only sign that civilization is living
is the flash of a television screen
through the curtains of a dimmed house.
I can hear the drone of my own television
The news informing me the world is not okay.
That seems impossible the way tonight is.
Society is not causing me danger now,
Society is silent. No word in defense
of shootings, terrorism, and poverty.
This moment is me; the pavement,
the ashes, the droplets of dew.
My environment isn't unsafe right now,
It's my only real home.
The walls behind me were created
In hopes of comforting a family,
housing many Christmases and Dinners.
But the house is just brick walls,
Filled with memories, but still empty canvas.
Here, this moment is my home.
A never-ending sky embedded with diamond stars.
This will be more home to me than everywhere,
This has been since my birth and all before me.
This is infinite, even though I am not.
Outside any four walls is the infinite
No matter where I sleep, this will still be there.
Civilization may consider home a country,
but maybe if they really saw this world,
this planet and universe as their home,
War wouldn't matter anymore.
If we considered our mothers
the place of our birth instead of our land,
maybe I wouldn't be hearing the anchorman
Telling me that our flesh is using guns
to pierce one another's.
But it's a personal thought I'll forget
Just as the cigarette goes up in smoke.
It's there and matters then, but when gone
The next one will replace it just as quick.
And maybe that's what the conflict is;
Revelations reduce to nothing.