Before this,
I would look out my window
and see humans rushing about,
trash on the streets,
stale days on repeat,
dead air on the radio.
During this,
I am looking out my window
and seeing humans fearing the worst,
vacant roads and skies,
questions wondering, "why,"
frustrations rising without a roof.
But after this?
After this,
I hope to look out my window
and see neighbors exchanging pleasant greetings.
To see people slow down.
To not take things for granted.
To come out of this with new ideas,
more positive ways of thinking.
To relearn to love
and to see things with fresh eyes.
To work together
and dream a better future hand-in-hand.
YOU ARE READING
Ghostwriter
PoetryLiving with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams, fears, wishes, and regrets all compile together to create a new world far from the one we physically exist in. At times, it becomes easy t...
