Picture a golden scale,
If you would. Much like
Anubis’ weighing of the hearts.
In this current world,
One plate holds Greed
And the other holds Humanity.
Now tell me —
Which one weighs more
In this place of Insanity?
-
-
They said
It doesn’t affect
Me. So why
Should I Care?At which point
I look at the ant, the
Termite, the bee.
Mindless, maybe,
But
Helping, Building, Constructing.Do you need to Feel
Others’ Suffering
To Contribute
Or Help?
If so,
Perhaps A Hivemind
Would suit you
More. -
If Empathy were
A virus
I hope you contract it. -
These small clips of you
Talking, moving, and acting.
They’re precious.
Forgive me if my tendencies
Unsettle you.
I don’t see you often.
So these clips I watch
Knowing I fall
Further in love with you. -
Do you remember
Going to the library
To escape
The yelling, the fighting
The anger?
Getting lost in words
Worlds away from your own
Because fiction was Better than reality.
-
As I find contentment
And inner peace
The desire to bleed
My words ebbs away.Perhaps I wasn’t meant
To be a writer, cease
The dream, plant the seed
For a new vision to take the day. -
Tell me of your heritage,
Of how you came to
Be.
Did your family
Survive, thrive or
Die?
Are you one of the
Lucky few who
Can trace their lineage
Back several generations?
I wish I could.
Wish I knew of my
Family’s sacrifice and
Devotion to bring me
Here
So that I may give my
Thanks for my life.
-
Most don’t seem to mind you
Looking at them, capturing
That moment. But I mind.Your birth brought something new
And I wonder if your creator would find you insidious
As I sometimes do.Everyone smiling, posing, snapping,
While I fumble out of the frame, uninclined.
I don’t like you, following me, watching me, looking at me.Everyone adores you, but
I wish to keep you shut
At least until,
I am happy with my gut. -
In a newly developed suburb, bursting with homes,
Is a dreamy hot air balloon
Filled to the brim with blank tomes
Waiting, waiting… For the stars to align with the blue moon.The delay is long, arduous, so the balloon becomes occupied,
It makes friends as the weeds and plants grow,
Some of the tomes have verses, so the balloon is mollified,
Still waiting, waiting… For the stars and blue moon to glow.The plants have grown vines, strong and budding,
Radiant, colorful in all their flowerly glory.
But the hot air balloon bids farewell, for the sky is stunning,
The blue moon and stars are out, so it’s time to fill the tomes
With new stories.But the hot air balloon finds it hard to leave,
For the vines and friends are holding on
Should it stay with the empty tomes and grieve,
Or leave, to fill the pages with stories and songs?
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