I remember the speech

Are our wants 

needs in breeding?

and our needs

beaded with the distractions

that feed our desire?

Is it love or is it lust?

Is it purpose 

or are we lost?

Driven by passions

that drive past our minds

Passed on as pastures

Fodder for cattle

Prepared for the slaughter 

Who are we? 

Are we the ones we know?

Or are our reflections masks

maxing the maxims

That a book's meaning is 

covered beneath 

its hardened shell

If we dare look beneath

the clutter and the speediness 

Of all we have convinced ourselves

we are,  we want or need,

I fear we would stare 

at blank pages, 

and armed with shaky hands 

and the pen of years to come

I pray we feel the need to fill

the pages of our existence

with a life, 

devoid of the distractions

that feed our desire.

I have to admit I have been suppressing my thoughts. For multiple reasons, but I believe mostly because I believe the world 🌎 moves too fast for the things I think about. I believe my thoughts would help people slow down and see life differently; better still, correctly. Or at least, to help them see life: all they're missing out on.

But I often wonder if seeing life is a luxury many do not believe they can afford. To stop and think, switch from the numbness and feel, strike a conversation even when it slows you down...these seem like lofty ideals, far away from the necessity that violently stares at the 130 million living below the poverty line.

Again, I question my thoughts...and wonder why we even got so poor as a country. While I delibrate on the helpfulness of my predilection, I ask myself, rather judgingly, what if I shared them earlier? What if more people who had the chance to swim 🏊‍♂️ above the water to see the beautiful 😍 sunset 🌇 , took the time to tell everyone down on the ocean floor that there's more, enough, provision and beauty to go round?

What if we all took the time to refine our thoughts and share them with those around us, enough to spark a debate, inspire a course correction, or motivate a teenager to seek excellence beyond the mundane?

I wonder: what if we shared our thoughts more? What if we dared to talk?

I wonder if
you have been loved
with the intensity
of a beating heart

have your frailties
ever been blotted out
in the eyes of the one
that gazes at you
as the colourful glistening
of evening's sunset?

have the rules of engagement
been thrown out the window
with the laser focus of a man
who wants nothing more
but to listen to you billow on?

perhaps, these words I pen
have been scripted by one
who came before me
promising roses and daffodils
and left you with thorns, torn

and my scribbles of affection
are nothing more than
clanging cymbals and red flags
that scream
'All men are the same'