I came to a possible realisation,
You're as likely to change the world
by writing a paper or going into politics
as you are by taking drugs in a park
or talking furiously at strangers;
That's surely false. What strange,
******-up, vain-glorious worlds
we choose to live in. Yurt (for social justice)!
I want out.
I just want out.
Who doesn't want
to escape,
How many fall prey to
distraction along the way?
They get high, or comfortable
because they can afford to escape.
Nevermind the sober,
Ignore the starving,
Let apathy destroy
everything humanism yearned for.
There's nowhere to run, nor is there anyone,
Who would risk it, those migrants, them exiles
and the refugees, what are they fleeing from?
Not to engage in confrontation, to escape from
the war we brought to their homeland. We did this,
We made the world the way it is today, sitting here
typing away. What am I trying to say? Escape or change,
When you escape you forfeit your say, they'll change anyway.
How painful must it be to leave your home, to grapple with that
it was taken away, and one's say; we sit here, typing for change,
Trying to escape.
He ran out of things to say as another Thursday faded away.