this life
is a feeling
a speck in time
we follow generation
after generation
seeking something more than what really is
we mend broken pasts and
make broken futures
never quite finding that ray of
perfection
this life we sit in trains and
look at the graffiti on the walls
wondering if this is all that
this life stores for our next generations
while lights
flash in and out
and we travel underground
like worms in earth’s dirt
we are uninvited guests
in this life
land taken by foreigners in exchange for
trauma that will never fade
we claim land though
not being able to create in the first place
diffusion of races like
dried rice and seasonings
mixing colliding and supposedly thriving
from the ground up
this life
leaves us no joy
but robs us of certain happiness and we
are taught that
in this life
only the successful will make it
only the corrupt will make it