In this world, you are weary yet excited. Possibilities are in the air. We are rising as we are falling but most don't mind the physics.
The people are aesthetically pleasing to a refined eye. In the different, unique, broken, beaten but not defeated, there is often beauty. If physiognomy exists, then life has not been easy.
They are running past you, guarded, in a rush, reaching a destination to you unknown but to them, home.
On the rides you take, you are assaulted with smells pungent, violently acrid as you sense yourself getting an instant headache from gasoline emissions straight to your very neurons. Their world hasn't reached the same, environmentally friendly smells of your world.
The babies in the streets are screaming. Screaming or running. Screaming or running. Smiling or quiet. This world - screaming or running, while smiling but quiet.
The noise you hear makes you want to stop, kneel to your equal and cry. The noise and your equal being a mentally disabled, socioeconomically challenged, wrinkled face beggar asking you for 10 cents. You usually don't give money, you were taught people are not honest, and to "always give food"...but oh, in this world...they are. In fact, the degree of honesty and truth is bend-on-your-knees, lock-yourself-in-a-closet-and-cry overwhelming. Your eyes have only just begun to see.
While natural resources run plenty, this world is exploited. Their harvest was stolen. You sat and watched. You're helpless.
Then you try to help, but what little you do, you'll never even tangibly be able to see. Faith is your only ally.
Stay faithful or die fighting. This world is full of wonder but ruthless.
The human offers a calloused hand, a tired heart and even more tired feet. He has walked in this world all his life and he knows it's stone-cold, obdurate reality. He has and he will. Walk, walk he goes, because in a world where you can choose to laugh or cry, what would you choose?
Onwards and upwards, this world is your world and our world...and we are them and they are us. Equal parts of same territories but one world is behind you. As you are in front, does the lead really matter? Where will you stand to get where you want to be? On bodies? Or on solid ground?
My metaphors are real and they live right this very second...developing, bigger, stronger, an evolution - no microscope required. Come see for yourself. Don't occult, eclipse me. There is hope...if you think there is too, that is.
This world's phylogeny comes full circle soon. The babies, the smells, the noise, the people in their natural, developing habitat...insanity. Insalubrious and sick. Feeble, fluctuating and hesitant. Faithful and fighting. Screaming or running. Together.
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The people are aesthetically pleasing to a refined eye. In the different, unique, broken, beaten but not defeated, there is often beauty. If physiognomy exists, then life has not been easy.
They are running past you, guarded, in a rush, reaching a destination to you unknown but to them, home.
On the rides you take, you are assaulted with smells pungent, violently acrid as you sense yourself getting an instant headache from gasoline emissions straight to your very neurons. Their world hasn't reached the same, environmentally friendly smells of your world.
The babies in the streets are screaming. Screaming or running. Screaming or running. Smiling or quiet. This world - screaming or running, while smiling but quiet.
The noise you hear makes you want to stop, kneel to your equal and cry. The noise and your equal being a mentally disabled, socioeconomically challenged, wrinkled face beggar asking you for 10 cents. You usually don't give money, you were taught people are not honest, and to "always give food"...but oh, in this world...they are. In fact, the degree of honesty and truth is bend-on-your-knees, lock-yourself-in-a-closet-and-cry overwhelming. Your eyes have only just begun to see.
While natural resources run plenty, this world is exploited. Their harvest was stolen. You sat and watched. You're helpless.
Then you try to help, but what little you do, you'll never even tangibly be able to see. Faith is your only ally.
Stay faithful or die fighting. This world is full of wonder but ruthless.
The human offers a calloused hand, a tired heart and even more tired feet. He has walked in this world all his life and he knows it's stone-cold, obdurate reality. He has and he will. Walk, walk he goes, because in a world where you can choose to laugh or cry, what would you choose?
Onwards and upwards, this world is your world and our world...and we are them and they are us. Equal parts of same territories but one world is behind you. As you are in front, does the lead really matter? Where will you stand to get where you want to be? On bodies? Or on solid ground?
My metaphors are real and they live right this very second...developing, bigger, stronger, an evolution - no microscope required. Come see for yourself. Don't occult, eclipse me. There is hope...if you think there is too, that is.
This world's phylogeny comes full circle soon. The babies, the smells, the noise, the people in their natural, developing habitat...insanity. Insalubrious and sick. Feeble, fluctuating and hesitant. Faithful and fighting. Screaming or running. Together.
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