I stare into the abyss, she stares back into me...
I stare into the horizon, he stares back into me...
I stare into the reflection of the sun...
But on my skin, I don't feel it burn...
I walk beneath the blue sky, and it walks beneath me...
I swim in the ocean, and the ocean swims in me...
I pace over the earth, and it paces over my heart...
But I am roaming without any compass or chart...
The plastic meets me at the beach, crying, asking why she was made...
I tell her that I will pick her up, through the clear sea I will wade...
The shards of glass lie in the grass, stone cold, staring into nothing...
I take them in my hands, I will run through the free fields without longing....
The harmful gases whirl around in the air, wondering why...
I strengthen nature and she soothes them, I will breathe without cry...
I stride through the forests, it strides through me...
I stride over the hills of sand, and the sand strides over me...
I stride along the earth, nature...
Taking in every single feature...
But the trash bins disappear, year after year.
Plastic finds its way to sea, every single day.
Gasses are made, is it already too late?
Will I be able to run after butterflies?
Will the people stop telling me lies?
Will we be able to turn this all around?
Will it all end for us, buried under-ground?
Or will a hope and a chance solidify?
Will I be answered on this sad cry?
Do you realize what is happening while you sleep?
Will you help pull this weight, so we don't fall too deep?
I wait for those who wish to walk with me...
I love difference but in harmony, all of us free...
Who realizes what and who they were meant to be?
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts that rhyme
PoetrySometimes it's a story, sometimes it's just a thought or maybe a hidden message. But one thing they all have in common is that they rhyme. (Or supposed to)
