growth is continuous.
But where are we headed to?
Do we follow the patterns of animals?
through instinct
do we survive to reach our ends?
Do we find our way to light?
like phototropism
do we seek for it to enlighten the world?
We see ourselves set apart,
from animals like brushstrokes to art,
isn’t art a type of marking from a brush?
just one that ‘cannot’ be made with rush.
How foolish to believe in that!
when we aren’t as happy as a cat,
lying on ground in the sun,
yet our lives cannot be undone.
Homo sapiens
a brilliant race you are!
thinking you could grow out of bounds,
outrun your programming,
ivy climbing ferociously.
You make everything so much harder,
I’m no longer safe and sound,
exposed to wrong mainstreaming,
blocking my leaves atrociously.
Why do we take pride in things that,
hurt like thousands of daggers,
flying into you?
stabbing your innocence,
pieces shatter one by one,
as you step into the real world.
Only I don’t know the real world yet,
but my intuition tells me that,
my world now is an undeveloped version,
Oh, how can I ever protect myself,
protect my already bleeding self,
from the knives that will be even sharper!
I’m so scared to become like the others,
finding endless joy in pain,
giving in to asterisked desires.
I must say,
growth is continuous
but we are headed anticlockwise to the animals,
set apart yet still as a whole;
and we aim down,
down into the muck,
of whatever those dirty minds can decide;
for we disgrace those poor animals,
while we aren’t better ourselves.
On the contrary, we are really the worst version!
Others aim to survive,
to seek what nature provides,
Homo sapiens aim to the unknown,
which our cleverness foretold.
the human race is so unique,
clever at manipulation,
strong in articulation,
the lives they create are so vivid,
that inside that whirlpool of colours,
where the eye is located,
forever calm give way to nothingness,
plain boredom.
and that’s my intuition from boredom.