I am not Paris,
I am humanity
begging to be restored.

I am not Paris,
the terrorist,
the mockery.
I am the part of it
that asks why.

I am not the destroyer
the killer, the monster with a gun.

I am the disappointed , the little voice of conscience,
That tells you to look in all corners of the world
and breathe reality.

Because if you too
weep
You are not Paris,
You are the many,
The past, the present, the future
That beg for humanity to be restored.