Let's invent a new world:

A world where smiles are money.
Work is art,
And wealth is living with little.

A world where kindness is technology,
Empathy is politics,
And sympathy a medicine.

A world where revenge is forgiveness,
War is waged against weapons and waste,
And justice is done for abuses to nature.

A world where
There is no
I or My or Our.

This world will never be
You're thinking; i see,

Maybe we could just sit down,
And start inventing it,
In this critical slowdown.

I arrive and the scents of morning dew and fresh flowers gush into my nostrils. Breathing in nature as I start on the day. Just 5 minutes ’til the bells go ring ring ring and the peace moment song echoes through the hallways.

I continue on with the loud chatters from left and right. Papers ripping, ball pens tapping, and feet pacing. At lunch, we munch on lunchboxes being passed from one another. Three hours more but eyelids feel heavy from all the eating and talking.

I depart by walking down a trail of tranquil green trees towering over one another. On warm days, the flower petals fall gracefully and I follow along the path like a scene in a movie. Sometimes, I take on another path, and the smoke of the grilling of barbecues envelopes, and I finish off with my white uniform smelling with a satisfied appetite.

I want to stay up late and write about everything I hate
Everything stemming from a lack of humanity
Why am I living through this time of insanity
Is it to make me stronger, capable of anything great?
It is more pain and struggle to endure
More thoughts to flood my waking mind
and stifle my gasping breath
What a time to be alive
when close contact is killer
and true vulnerability is exposure
When connection is weak and the circuits are short
Isolation is preferred to stave that depression wave
that everyone rides at some breaking point or another
The swell is huge and I have had my fill
Swimming to the bank to cash my earnings in clothes
Drinking alkaline for balance over all of the swill
Doomsday prepping for anything goes
Leaning on what’s left of my will

We've never heeded warnings,
We surely won't start now;
Because we ate from a blissful tree,
We're mopping up our brows.
They witnessed a smoking Vesuvius,
Yet went about the day;
We mark washed up bodies
From distasteful lands,
With arms wrapped round each other;
Signed Versailles to end a war,
But postponed it instead;
Ignored the bottle's label,
Drank whitener before going to bed.

We're blinded in Casandra's world,
Ignoring words of peril,
Uttered for our good.

when we first came to this land,
blood was shed for our entitlement.
when we first came to this land,
we took the things that were never ours
and trampled its native growth.
when we first came to this land,
we instilled in it a sickness that may never be cured;
we tarnished sacred lands with greed we call virtue,
and when we did so, we stood on the throat of humanity.

there are some people who are doomed to repeat history.
there are some people who will trample native growth,
spread sickness,
and stand on the throats of our people.
with the heavy weight of six centuries upon our shoulders
we stand,
a hobbled nation no longer able to stride,
heads held high,
through this sea of blood without meeting challenge.

with six centuries passed, we commit genocide anew.
it is not the native growth that suffers,
but the very peddlers of greed who are infected
by the sickness of consequence.
but they alone will not suffer.
as we march through this new iteration of history
wearing death masks instead of cloth,
thousands of innocents lose their lives
in a battle of which they were never a part.

the single day that we dedicate to gratitude,
the one day of the year some remember
to give thanks in between passing heavy dishes,
is not a commemoration of discovery.
it is a commemoration of consequence and greed.
and six centuries later,
it is our own people who we will massacre with the cry of freedom.

It’s been a long time since my heart has soared.
The days flickering by.
Rolling through the channels trying to find something new.
Alan Watts plays in the back-screaming LIFE.
My girlfriend says, "baby, just get in the car."
Sitting in the passenger seat heading to wherever next.
Your face shines through rear view mirror.
A smirk of goodbye.
******* out to the sky.
Screaming, “what is life after this?”
Holding onto eachother like there’s no life left to grasp.
This is my sign that life does get better after this.
The world is closed but our hearts open in a 24-hour vacancy.
She says, “do you remember when we first met?”
Apple blossoms and moon shine between her lips.
A taste of something I miss.
Her red stained lips traced the rim of her cup.
Yelling at the bar “I just can’t get enough”.
Her foot stomping at the bar stool.
Just one more song please.
Just one more dance.
Just one more moment.
& we keep grasping for those old moments.
A reminder to us that life is our last call.

They surveyed my every mood
They established surveillance
Harshly punished defiance
Had me locked up, well, for good

They forged ideas in my mind
Had me believe I was blind
Shaped me into a pariah
Repeated they were the Messiah

Repeated for hours on end
A virus had plagued the cell
To this litany without end
No one was safe, they could tell

Words echoed into my room
We were either set for doom
Or grateful to be rescued
By their remedy, they cooed

My every step was measured
Some rebelled, they were injured
One mile is all we had left
To run and not go bereft

While the media explained
The pandemic knew no end
They monitored our thinking
A ceaseless, clueless talking

If you believed me to be
Some prisoner in a facility
Well, I am very sorry
I am just, like you and me,

A human being in 2020...

11:23-11:40 pm
Nancy

I live in a time when we hide our faces
I live in a time when we still fight for equal rights for all races
I live in a time when school shootings are the norm
I live in a time when history is taking another new form

I live in a generation who jokes about death
I live in a generation who laugh and cry in a single shaky breath
I live in a generation who don’t believe the truth
I live in a generation who never had a happy youth

I live in a world while I scream and shout
I live in a world while no one lets me out
I live in a world while I am trying to cope
I live in a world while I cling to hope

I live in a place where school children are waiting to die
I live in a place where boys are told that “real men don’t cry”
I live in a place where dreams are killed
I live in a place where a higher death count means our leaders are skilled

Still, I live
In this place,
In this time,
And I will survive.

I live in a house
I live in a home
I live in a body I can call my own

I live in a bubble I’m trying to pop
I live in a mind unwilling to stop
I live in a note, a powerful song
I live in a voice that is still singing strong

When news of the pandemic reached my high school, no one was thinking of the impact that year.
We all thought that the government would never close our schools.
They would leave us to die, and we would wait to be killed.
The first thought when we were told that school would not be the same was, well this just means I won’t die by a bullet while trying to pass geometry.
When did trying to survive high school become so literal?
I am terrified that I will never hug my friends again.
I am terrified that I have had my last moments in high school.
I wanted a graduation.
I wanted a prom.
I wanted to sing and perform.
I wanted to be somewhat happy.
I don’t know how to stop this pain in my chest, spreading more and more hurting me beyond anyone’s comprehension.
I am so alone, and yet I crave the quiet.
It’s too loud, but no one is singing.
I just want to have the memories that everyone has.
I just want to hug my best friend again.
I want to worry about college, not how and when, and where I will die.
I want to be a kid, for the next few months.
Because this is the last chance I’ll get.
And the end of my childhood will be marked by months of being alone and devastated.
I just want to be a kid while I still can.