Change

Who am I?

Sometimes I lie awake and wonder if I will make a difference in the world.

The neverending noise of the world overwhelms my senses.

And I watch as the torn edges of society continue to corrupt callow minds.

I want to be the change.

Is that me?

 

I like to pretend the day is lasting,

And the world isn’t passing in front of me

Like a thick blur.

I witness the pain from those who wish to see the change and it feels   

Like a weight on my shoulders.

A burden constantly harassing me.

The grief, the anger, the craving. The longing for the world to change.

 

I worry about what may become of this generation I live in.

We all see the need for change

But ignore it as if it’s just a problem

For someone else to take care of.

Is this what we need?

Who is this?

 

I realize life isn’t easy.

Standing up for what you believe in comes with affliction,

But I envision a world of equality.

A world where nobody is reduced to a beggared state.

As Gandhi advised, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

I am the change.

 
This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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