The Reflection of Shadows
A collection of moments
When Will the World be Okay?
As I leave my school today,
I leave with a sense of gloom.
The things we decide, the things that we try
Are the flames to our kerosene tombs.
The parents of the children;
The molesters, the abusers, the damned-
I'll never understand why some people are allowed
The warmth of a child's small hand.
Sometimes the innocence is lost on its own
In the youth of the nation today.
The drugs and the lies popularity buys
Is what drives common sense away.
The lovers, the loveless, the lost-
The cheaters that bring the disease.
The trust that is lost, the love that it costs
Is more countless than waves in the sea.
The drink that won't let you stop drinking,
That carries your worries away,
When its grip is released and the drunkenness ceased
You still have to face today.
So tell me, what's left to look forward to?
It all just seems cloudy and gray.
I sit here and ponder. I worry, I wonder-
When will the world be okay?
_
This is an old poem written by a much younger me who, at that time, was already deeply concerned about the state of our world. Many years have passed since then, but I still have plenty to worry about.
I leave with a sense of gloom.
The things we decide, the things that we try
Are the flames to our kerosene tombs.
The parents of the children;
The molesters, the abusers, the damned-
I'll never understand why some people are allowed
The warmth of a child's small hand.
Sometimes the innocence is lost on its own
In the youth of the nation today.
The drugs and the lies popularity buys
Is what drives common sense away.
The lovers, the loveless, the lost-
The cheaters that bring the disease.
The trust that is lost, the love that it costs
Is more countless than waves in the sea.
The drink that won't let you stop drinking,
That carries your worries away,
When its grip is released and the drunkenness ceased
You still have to face today.
So tell me, what's left to look forward to?
It all just seems cloudy and gray.
I sit here and ponder. I worry, I wonder-
When will the world be okay?
_
This is an old poem written by a much younger me who, at that time, was already deeply concerned about the state of our world. Many years have passed since then, but I still have plenty to worry about.
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