Saving Our Place

this was slightly rushed, wrote it while vacuuming my sitting room o.e

anyway, don't know how i feel about this, so definitely comment? (constructive criticism only please)

am i alone in thinking that the world could still be a beautiful place?

and that time after time again, 

our ideals and painstaking moralities have made it seem so bleak,

and that stifling religions have made this world of ours seem dangerous-

but what's so dangerous about living in a world where beauty dwells?

living with the lack of gorgeous views,and sea toned memories

appears to be on par with purgatory,

at least to me, this is the way the world has been portrayed lately.

am i alone in thinking life was once a beautiful thing?

that once upon a time, living was a treasure,a privilege, and not a burden-

now and days it seems that we are quicker to end lives than live one.

and i am guilty of this,

so don't fault me with being accusory,

i know how that plan works,

and it doesn't help,it just hurts,

so why is ending your life the back-up plan to everything?


am i alone in thinking?

the brain seems to have become just another organ,useless but deadly if broken.

the mind is no longer a sanctuary,

 but a graveyard for thoughts that were always forsaken.

we stay silent for fear that we will draw attention to our unique ways of thinking,

we don't want to be the same,yet fear being different,

our thoughts separate us, so we annihilate them,

hiding them,locking them away in dark corners of our mind,

where they will be increasingly harder to find.


am i alone in feeling?

if i am the only one who feels joy in the feel of silk sheets on skin,

and lips placed firmly on lips,

and the feel of dough being pressed out by the ends of fingertips,

i perhaps can now understand why life is no longer something to cherish...

i pray that i am not alone in this world of 7 billion,

i desperately pray i am not the only one who stills believes in beauty,

the only human left in a world of mindless zombies-

i hope am not the only one still fighting to exist.

i'm clinging to the dream that i'm not the only one sinking,

the only one who can't get passed the decimation of our creation,

the hopelessness of our situation-

the world could still be a beautiful place,

if we could only lift our heads long enough to immerse ourselves in saving our saving grace.


The End

4 comments about this poem Feed