We are blind
Blind of what it is seen
In our faces we share
The same humanity
But show none
No remorse
No angst
No purity of response.
We are all but one
Yet one who does not care.
Not care.
We give no fucks to who we are
No fucks to what we've become
Nor expect much.
Dare we speak of others, without a place of our own?
How dare we be so blind.
Blinded to those in need
Blinded to those of greed
Blind to the beauty in life
All but too full of ourselves and our stupid clock.
A clock.
The clock of fucks to generations
More to come with much to lose
Not to gain but absolute insanity amongst the human heart.
A heart not of our own, for we have forsaken ourselves
Not knowing how to feel
Loosing our power to change.
Dare we care more about a false god than our own blood?
A god
One who we say is full of love.
But I see no love.
None from us anyways.
Can we truly spout such nonsense, whimsical words with no nature
Words without conviction?
With fire in our belly should we trust others.
Give us joy, help each other.
Without the stabbing wounds in our hearts.
If we feel any in the distant future, hopefully.
For we have lost much of our time
Too much of our own.
YOU ARE READING
My Lil Story Of Life And Depression: Poems Of The Lost And Wounded
De TodoThese are some of my poems and my weird random thoughts. It may contain sad things, some explicit content, things that may bring you joy, things that are just my truth or maybe they are lies. Ideals that my thoughts provide, while in my writing, you...
