Isn't it just wonderful people love so deeply that a platform as powerful as hellopoetry ends up so inundated with woes of the self, self, self?

Are we truly aware of the horrors we are struck with every day, that kids get shot by the weapon wielder, that free speech gets rammed away?

Opinions of everyone should count and respected not traded as commodity and when opposed, why are all so quick on the high horse?

This platform gets wasted, let's balance the broken hearts, lovestruck, petty squabbles filling pages: simultaneously, diggers make brisk trade.

The world has taken thorough leave of its senses and in its wake, we're left to **** on leftover thoughts of philosophers and thinkers of long ago.

Originality is dead and inciting conflict is the new intellectual game.
Old hand at wars, we are.
Old hat, turn a blind eye.

Little big boy, throw your plastic gun away.
Little big girl, shut down that ******* and duck smile.
Little child, open up and read.
Write the wrongs and make it right.

It's the right of anyone to write, and shooting cameras don't lie.
But but somewhere, the balance is out.
Blind eye, blind eye, the lens takes in and spits out
Blind.