I feel as if this world called earth, had made me come undone,
so I decided today,
that I'd sleep it away,
as I transport my brain many miles away,
as my mind runs for miles upon miles,
until my mind becomes my body,
and I'm at a beach,
feet in the sand by the tireless ocean,
I look up to see the sun,
as my mind makes me float like a child in the water,
but instead of water i'm sent into the clouds,
strait into the sun,
the heat surrounds my body,
my mind does not remember things like gravity,
and I sore away,
from this dull world,
I am destined for brighter things,
things where the people on earth wont crush them,
where you're never given false hope like an early snowfall in October,
as to show you that planet had no plans of a winter.
How come the earth is so bitter?
the earth doesn't need snow for me to feel cold,
as our actions have made blizzards we can't shovel ourselves out of,
and cries of children young and old,
from near and far,
from up here I can see it all so clear,
that we cause more problems than were originally hear,
if we could learn to let other ask for our help,
maybe they might of before,
but now since we thought we knew best,
our whole worlds become a mess,
and we have worse problems to deal with then a war.
so I shoot past the clouds,
into the sun,
knowing that help is an art of asking,
rather than controlling.
and until our world can master this art,
nothing will save me or anyone from falling,
when it gets torn apart.
A poem/story about well, I hope I was clear c:
