First poem after two years...
"Words will set you free one day," they said,
As she was forced to draw on the ruled paper again.
And despite her rebel tears they said to her,
that education had the map to lead her straight...
to what the social system considered success.
She grew up to believe it and even wrote some prose
about metaphors and hopes and utopian worlds...
She fell for the delusion of inspirational quotes;
of believing that getting lost within thoughts
would lead her to something worth living for...
But some words made her paranoid,
and others made her bitter,
some made her a hypocritical dreamer;
they were just ideologies, isolated in indifference...
"there is no cure for a world that is bound to be malevolent..."
She learned natural sciences only offered fallacies,
When she saw all the cures were sold to a pharmacy
When phylosophy taught her, from its marginated resentful point of view,
that when the system runs around money, solutions are absurd.
She suffocated in disappointment
that was brought to her by language
and at will, she say she had forgetted her grammar
and she said two dat, spelling didnt "madder:!-
"Language is power" she heard,
But she claimed that it could flay you dead.
Cuz once u now it, u cant excape it,
to take a brake from the world that's demented.
But "Ideas are bulletproof," he said with aggravation,
the homeless man on the bus station.
"That gift that was given to you, called perception
may be half flawed to cause half of your indignation.
But the language that you say is slaying you has the power
to stroll around, setting the world on fire...
Although those ideas produced by language are tinted by your perception,
an interpretation that is influenced by a system ruled by the incredulous.
And I will tell you those words that tear you apart
are part of the language that could mend our cracks
if we could forget about money for once,
if we would give language the second chance."