Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2018
I am sorry Mr Confucius
I have broken the world

It fell apart into ten thousand pieces
of a crystal glass
It dissolved into ten thousand grains
of a dry sand castle
It frayed into ten thousand threads
of a silk cloth

Words became sounds with no meaning
Hugs turned into meaningless sensations
Faces changed into mute colours

The terrifying truth of deep reality
The loneliness of complete unification

The old sages lied
There is no peace in truth

You were right Mr Confucius
The woman's job is to weave
I’m clearly not an original in this sentiment:
β€œTo each his suff'rings: all are men,
         Condemn'd alike to groan,
The tender for another's pain;
         Th' unfeeling for his own.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate?
Since sorrow never comes too late,
         And happiness too swiftly flies.
Thought would destroy their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,
       'Tis folly to be wise.”
Thomas Gray, 1742
Written by
Marta
  1.3k
     Lora Lee, Sukanya Sinha Roy, L B and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems