I sit in the sofa, sipping warm tea,
As the world around me shatters slowly .
I read a Cinderella story, a happily ever after;
All the while ignoring the sound of breaking hearts .
It gets unbearable, the cries for help;
So I close my book and turn to the real world:
The one where people violate for pleasure,
The one where people are devoted to materialism .
I see people of different cultures, races, genders and beliefs
All under the roof of destruction;
All bonded by one emotion: Grief.
There’s a toddler, crying;
Two figures lie next to him, lifeless.
I stand up from the sofa,
Tears forming in my eyes .
But I cannot move, I am being held back
By the rope of self-interest .
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 12:28 AM UTC
The world is a library;
each person its books.
Monsters gather together-
to choose one to read.
Terrified and alone,
you pray you don't get chosen.
You've seen what happens
to everyone else:
They read it, they discuss it
like it's nothing but fantasy.
They don't understand
the reality;
so stuck-up is their mentality.
They misinterpret the entire book!
First they cut, then they stamp
and they put it right into the fires.
You pray to not get chosen
You pray to not be judged.
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 9:03 AM UTC