you make no sense to me. in this world, we kill to get people to like us yet we don't even like ourselves. and if you do like yourself you can't share it publicly without getting attacked for your confidence. in this world, there are thousands of terms to shame a woman about the way she acts or what she does yet men are free to do as they please. in this world, entire cultures are discriminated against. and for what? because of the color of their skin or because of the people who came before them. how is it that all of this makes sense? but most of us are too worried with our own insignificant lives to go and change the world, though some do try. and while i will only ever sit behind my screen and type, as i do now, i will continue to cheer on those people whose lives are what will create the change we need. because you, universe, make no sense to me. and you need to change because in this world, things will be done the right way.
YOU ARE READING
restless: a poetry collection
Poésiethe thing about waiting for the rain to stop is that you don't know that it will. you could wait and wait and it could just rain and rain. sometimes, if you wait long enough, the rain will stop and the sun will shine. but sometimes the drizzle turns...
