Creation

Why so few? Why so few of us? Why so few of us? The pain sometimes is too much...when words offered with kindness are met with swords, the blades hurt, they cut deep. I only weep because of their lack of belief. their undeveloped understanding. they believe only what they can see. so they create more misery. where are the dreamers?

I wonder why so many make a hell of heaven? And they blame the world...they want to see it burn, they want to see others fall, it makes their pain hurt a little less. NO ONE WANTS TO GROW WINGS.

I want to stay strong...see my visions through. But when you smile too long, they start to question you. Why so much sunny disposition? they make a mockery of light. to wish others well is unbelievable. i'm tired of dumbing down, they listen, they talk back when you complain, ...but it hurts more than trying to fly.

Where am I? Laughter is drowned out by yelling. I can feel their fear...they don't feel adequate, they don't feel like they're enough. I feel alien. Sometimes I just cry when I can't bear it. The hustle...the hustle...the hustle...i want to stop and quit but my spirit won't let me.

creativity come effortlessly but it's not mines. I wish others could join me...become creators. We hurt what we're not...we live with fear. we squeeze other's fruit because we cannot plant our own seeds. I can barely hear the music now...just whispering, threatening words and gossip. Don't they know that words have power? I'm tired of slowing down, I try to help them, reach out...but that makes things worse. they resent me for it. where am I?

those who DO mainly follow patterns they don't try to figure out their own EQUATION...it's so much easier to point fingers...i see their sneers with my heart. it makes me sad. why so much life with no living? why can't i just be a simple formula? when you blend in no one sees you, you add up like everyone else...i hope I'm close, the obstacles are getting harder. i'm tired.
i've seen unicorns fly once but I'm the only one...becoming more is lonely. there are lines wrapped around preying on our mistakes, they live to see us fail. the critics..who needs them? i can't fly with this much weight, i want to leave the ground. no jack daniels can numb who I AM...I AM WHO I AM.

Shak
100.