We live in a messed up world.
Torn apart by money.
Only to be rebuilt again.
The cycle continues.
Dirty cops.
Riots.
Murders in cold blood.
All of us are waiting for the flood.
The rushing of souls ripped to shreds by the greed for the need to feed our addictions.
The money makes us crazy.
The greed makes us murderous.
The filth makes us want.
And the love makes us numb.
We don't know what it's like to live in a world that accepts itself.
We don't know what it's like to be honestly blessed.
We are numb.
We are just animals that have since learned to hold a pen.
We create wars over natural resources.
And we fight for what we believe is what we need.
Only to find out that what we need doesn't exist.
We no longer have needs.
We only have wants.
Isn't that messed up?
Living in a world where having needs is non-existent.
A world where torture for you means freedom for me.
A world where we kill three million to save six hundred.
A world where we make decisions like that without batting an eye because what they tell us is what we always go by.
And what we will always go by.
Because we don't know anything else.
YOU ARE READING
Words.
PoetryThis is a book I write in to relieve my mind of the horror it creates for itself. Poems or not, they're words. Definitions or examples, they're words. My words. Read it or not, they're my words.
