Why do we sit so vulnerably, many
Deluged by inertia's spell, but still
Our minds are furnished with a surplus of brilliance.
And regretfully so few people fuel
The worlds treasured ingenuity
The petrol of our thought...
And then I remember
That the world had been one
But when Pangea split
People too, trimmed
The peripheries in which
Men of so much similarity
Had once been granted ingress.
Then due to small uncommonness
Were stripped of even simple freedom.
Living in a universal paradox
The air is crisp and the sky clear
Yet mankind is drowned in confusion.
I wonder: is our existence but a game?
Do the Gods play us like chess
We are their pawns, maybe
The oceans and mountains
Can be the queens?
Do they sit atop the world
And bellow down upon us
As we define morality
While acting in opposition
Of the so called, precious words we speak
Some speak of blindness most tragically
But should mankind be blinded
We'd live by our thoughts, our words
Which would not impend upon our vision.
I ask myself, why color
Can have so much meaning
When a man's promised word can be thrown
Out the door along with so much else...
There is a village buried within a valley:
Doused in beauty
Painted so poetically
And still, so far away, people shan't just be people.
Sit down and submerge yourself within your thoughts
And ponder who you want to be:
A white man? A Black man?
A city boy or a village girl?
Or could we, just for once
Erase from the whiteboard
What we teach generations over?
And conclude that men shall be men
Women shall be women
We are all composed of the same flesh
Same bone.. And same ability to both
Divide and conquer
Or accept and love the brother and sisterhoods
We have been blessed by.