This is real life.
For so long,
I have been shown
a false reality.
One created
for the innocent,
the blissfully unaware.
A world for
the young
and the lucky
and the naïve.
Unfortunately,
I am no longer one of them.
I have been shown
the world
under a microscope,
It's true form shown to me
blown up
and as clear as can be,
And I promise,
It is not so perfect.
This is real life,
Put in a new light,
Blindingly bright
and oh, so visible,
And whether or not
I am prepared for it,
It's here, and it's real.
And I am part of it,
I belong in it,
I breathe its air and
walk among its ground,
And I play a part in its history,
Whether I want to or not.
Curiosity may have killed the cat,
But we have no idea
what it will do to me,
in this new world.
Will satisfaction bring me back?
I guess we'll have
to see, now,
Won't we?
YOU ARE READING
recycled poetry
Poetry❝i wish i was writing something special, but these words have been used before and there's no originality to it at all. i'm just reusing phrases until they're worn out, like musty library books or hand-me-down clothes.❞ from ❛hand-me-down poetry❜ i...
