Humans
We rely on judgement from others to define us
Yet we say we don't like to judge
We lie, mostly without knowing, but we lie all the same
But we can't help it, it's who we are
Our skin can either be warm with the hot blood inside us
Or cold because of the icy world we've placed ourselves in
We look back with regrets
but forward with expectation
We sleep in silence by ourselves
But with others, silence is uncomfortable
This is who we've become
Was this destined? Or did we bring it upon ourselves?
We search for answers
But the big ones are always hidden
* * *
It Was Me.
EVERYWHERE.
And now I get angry.
I didn't make this mess.
It could not have been me.
Was it me?
It was ME!
So now I understand.
It's my fault.
I did this and I have to clean it up.
Where's the broom?
Where's the dustpan?
I JUST SEE CRUMBS.
And they won't go away.
They won't dissappear.
I can't just forget.
They sheild my view.
My floor.
My mind!
They are inside me!
And I can't find the broom!
I can't ask a friend for help.
How could they see my space like this?
I'm not messy
They know that.
But I suddenly am!
Suddenly my life is ruined.
By these CRUMBS.
These tiny little iotas of fury.
No
They're not angry.
I am.
At them
At me.
At the broom.
At my floor.
At the things that caused the crumbs.
At you.
You read this.
You wonder.
But you don't find me a broom.
You don't find be a dustpan.
You just wonder.
What are the crumbs
And now I get angry.
I didn't make this mess.
It could not have been me.
Was it me?
It was ME!
So now I understand.
It's my fault.
I did this and I have to clean it up.
Where's the broom?
Where's the dustpan?
I JUST SEE CRUMBS.
And they won't go away.
They won't dissappear.
I can't just forget.
They sheild my view.
My floor.
My mind!
They are inside me!
And I can't find the broom!
I can't ask a friend for help.
How could they see my space like this?
I'm not messy
They know that.
But I suddenly am!
Suddenly my life is ruined.
By these CRUMBS.
These tiny little iotas of fury.
No
They're not angry.
I am.
At them
At me.
At the broom.
At my floor.
At the things that caused the crumbs.
At you.
You read this.
You wonder.
But you don't find me a broom.
You don't find be a dustpan.
You just wonder.
What are the crumbs
* * *
OPINIONS OF A MODERN AUTHOR
| Opinions are everywhere, We all have them, But I sit here and wonder? What are mine? Country music? No. Indie? Yes. Hipster? Sort of. Homosexuals? Just like us. Gay? Not me. Relationships? Hard! Money? None. Jobs? Not too bad. Family? Couldn’t live without them | Literature? Couldn’t live without it. School? No problem. Friends? Not a ton. Spiders? Scary. Dreams? Confusing. Goals? A lot. Band? No way. Orchestra? Any day. Practice? Makes perfect. Problems? Quite a few. Solutions? Always. Fame? Unimportant. Fortune? Even less. Future? Who knows. | Art? Amazing. Technology? Important. Politics? Boring. Sports? Not many. Nature? Beautiful. Independent? Very. Dependent? … Very. Video games? Fun. Quiet? Peaceful. Love? Always. Hate? Of course. Proud? Sometimes. Happy? Yes. Peace? I wish. |
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