Friday, January 6, 2012

Poem : This World

This world is made by us
Absolutely lived by us
No one but us
Lived by our perspectives
What will we choose?
Will we choose to listen to the all knowing of the norm
Or listen to our dreams, our hearts
Listen to the dreamers, for they are speaking to us
Listen to the words whispered by the poets of the past
Take hold of visions laid down so long ago
For us to understand
Become poets of now
Say what needs to be said
Living in word-worlds we all should be living
For the dreamers are few and the rest are many
So many live with the thoughts of post existing
Hopes of the next world being the grandest of grands’
Or fears of the fiery flames of a living inferno
Living in what we call death
The hereafter
Not realizing
Anything here or there is what you make of it
Like punched keys on a typewriter
The words are made by the typist
By the mind that put them together
Stop living with the what if
Simply start living
For if you spend a lifetime without opening your mind
Your mind will be just as asleep in the next world

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