It (#Wattys2016)

antidote

i am the product of
histories blended
into a frail, little being

i heard too many
casualties;
i did not shut my ears

i let the stories
transform me
weave me new skin

so my laughs
are not so warm,
too warm, just icy

and my eyes do not shine
just gleam soft
under lights

and i am not too loud,
my lips are stitched
with puppet strings

so my ears become
ears, no longer bitten
decorations, I listen

discover, eyes wide
in amazement
an antidote

a cure to
obnoxious, little brains

and found society's
dirty, little secret
the key to ignorance:
joy

"society isn't broken
wars are nature

ain't nothing wrong with
crimes and sins."

and so,
history repeats itself
time and time again

the laughter manipulates
and humanity, the cure
goes quickly down the drain

since man aims for higher
not deeper, just
ludicrous smiles
and

melancholy?
to be ignored, but be aware?
they'll dub you as insane...