Broken Poetry

The Fog Of Life

At 5, I wanted to be a dancer. My mind had been closed off from all the evil in the world, and my dream was to dance, like the princesses I swore were real. I wasn't aware of the reality that would hit me like a million bricks falling from the sky, landing upon my head one at a time. Year after year, my knowledge grew, my eyes saw further and further past the fog of white lies, and fairytales my parents had read to me.

At 10, I wanted to be a veterinarian. I had seen sights and nightmares happen to wonderful creatures that are made to put smiles on faces. I wanted to help the animals that lost their homes to the wrath of civilization, I wanted to see the tails wag with joy instead of cower between the legs of puppies too young to see the world around them. Still, I was blind to what the world had fallen into. A hypnotic green object, stealing the logic and reasoning of the vast majority of the population.

At the age I am now, I know more of what life is truly like. It's not fairytales and dancing princesses, but a war against ourselves. Fighting for the green object that holds so much power in our lives, losing our minds as we struggle to make the numbers of our grades go higher and higher, setting impossible standards, and mentally bringing ourselves down. We chop off the heads of others, just to feel taller, and we stomp down the forests, pollute the oceans and do so many things to hurt the lands we walk upon.

At the age I am now, I've fallen into the same hypnotism. The actions I take are no different from all the other masked people surrounding me. Instead of clearing the fog, I've only walked deeper into it, with the reality of the world drawing me in closer to the edge of the cliff.

At 40, a father, worn and beaten by the cruel war for money, for the ability to live a "good" life, has fallen off the cliff, and into the puppet master's hands. Stressful routines of eat, sleep, work, repeat, has made him into a man who no longer cares for the animals, who no longer cares for the pollution, but only cares for his family, and career.

At 35, a mother of two, is so deep in the fog, her mind is almost always blank. Her hands move on their own as she makes a meal for her family, so her husband can be healthy for his next day of work. Feeling like a bird inside of a cage, her only wish is to fly, fly and be free.

At 22, a girl fresh out of college makes her journey into the fog, her mind focused only on earning money and starting a life of her own, little does she know that life isn't as sweet as she thinks. The puppet master pulls on her strings and gives her depression and anxiety, causing her vision of a better future to slowly drift away. With each day she gets up to go to work, the weight hanging on her ankles grows heavier and pulls her down, making her trip and fall several times. She is now full grown, consumed by the hypnotic world of social media and money.

We are no longer connected with the world of our childhood, the fog has grown too thick, and our minds no longer want to explore and create, but to keep a life that might not be worth living. We no longer dream, but accept reality. We've given up on trying to change our fate, our futures, or anything about the way we live. We let each other fall into a downward spiral, and walk mindlessly off the edge of a cliff. We refuse to give up part of what we have to someone who has little to nothing in their possession. We've just become selfish creatures.

We are no longer people, but puppets that have fallen under the control of money.