|Somewhere under our scars and pain
||[Jan. 3rd, 2014|04:16 pm]
The blisters worn red from worn out shoes.|
A pad of skin aware of the world below.
Blood dripping little drops from friction burn, and the stones beneath.
Blaring and loud the world.
Losing oneself, losing ones world.
Only negation around.
Doomed yet unfaltering.
Life on this side of the world, unseen.
People so clever so loving ignored.
A societal oubliette a ghetto of the worlds making.
They said never again but they must not have meant it.
Everywhere I look, all I see is sufferin.
Sufferin, sufferin, not hustlin, hustilin.
Duped by ourselves our own greed our own ignorance.
So genocide is happening somewhere in the the world.
The seas are melting with godzillas breath.
I DO! I hope you do to.
We can keep the promise together, of never again.
We can be good stewards.
Know that if you are suffering then you are not alone.
We are clever, we are love, and we can make a difference each and every one of us, and we do.
We make a change by the little things we do, the love we share with each other no matter their age or story.
We make a difference every time we do something good with out expectations of rewards.
The action is reward enough.
Do something good.
Do something that heals.
Be a person who cares.
So when you are asked who cares, you can say you do, because you do.
We are all those bundles of love somewhere under our scars and pain.