When one person dies another is born….and what’s native some to others may be foreign.
We walk different paths and our lives intersect, yet in our world, we grab each other by the neck.
The ones we hate merely get a bruise, they whimper they whine and are very confused. But the ones we love we attack with force, until their souls are nothing but a corpse.
We degrade our loved ones even though they give us strength, then we turn to strangers and their words stick with us like ink.
Is it the reason because people are unaware and too naive to see the truth? Or is it much more, more evidence more proof.
Our loved onrs understand us, or at least so they say. So how come when we are in need they push us away?
They ridicule our feelings and fill our hearts with pain. They hurt they sting, from this hatred nothing is gained.
I think everyday, of a world with understanding, no war no blood. Just humans in good standing.
But its the ones we love most, that try to hold us down. They never understand, to them we’re clowns. We’re majestic donkeys just grazing in the field. While our master is on a hill, a steel whip he feels.
Goes along the edges and strokes it twice, then smacks any donkey, who even pretends to look nice.
We must all be the same in our ways and our thoughts. There’s two separate groups, and battles are fought. The groups never mix and if they are its a shame. If an individual rises up, no one will ever speak his name.