Is this what it's like to be a poet?
To taste every goodbye, to feel every moment?
To feel every detail, to see every flaw?
To kiss every star as the night starts to fall
To fall in love with the way the sunsets
To dream of the birds from dusk to dawn

Is this what it's like to be a painter?
To find it captivating the way the earth moves
Mesmerized by your very own torment
Never caring if anyone else approves
Ingenious, stamped across your forehead

Is this what it's like to be an artist?
To find beauty in the pain that transcends
From the demonized garden growing within?
To find something alluring in the way
*People walk away

I watched the clock
7:39
7:40

In that minute
108 people died

what if one of those people happen to be
someone I knew
someone I love

so I have come to this epiphany
what the **** am I doing

I just wasted one minute of my life
a minute that someone could only wish for now
so why am I wishing my minutes away

love someone?
tell them
they don't love you back?
let them go. now.
have a test?
study
feeling sad?
cry
cry and cry and cry
feeling happy?
spread it

because every minute that passes
will never come back
and even though I love you,
the minutes are still passing,
and I know you are not coming back.

You know what would look great on the library wall?
Maybe, perhaps, a wrecking ball.
Who needs real books when we have the internet and e-readers?
Who needs live action plays when we have movie theaters?
Are you wondering why there isn't any shade in the park?
We needed to fill the playground with shavings of bark.
Who needs ideas when we have technological omnipotence?
Who needs a savior when we can be saved by our ignorance?

If you're shaking your head, let it be in a mirror,
until the mantra of this generation becomes clearer and clearer.
Consume. Materialize. Deceive. Repeat.
Gain it all for ourselves, it's Mother Nature's treat!
You don't have to believe our intent is for peace or procreation,
in order to confess you've contributed to the world's condemnation.
We were made to be stewards and by sharing, will thrive
if not in this world where the fittest [and fakest] survive.