by gRj
There are those who see the world unravel,
who feel the weight of truth in their bones.
They reach for others—not out of duty,
but because the soul remembers we are not meant to stand alone.
There are those who see as well,
but turn away.
They build walls from fear and profit,
calling it wisdom.
Their eyes are mirrors of their own desire.
And then—
there are the many caught between,
not heartless, but hidden from the light.
Told what to fear, taught whom to blame,
they march to songs not of their making.
This is the shape of our time:
The caring,
the cunning,
and the carried.
But lines are not cages.
A whisper of truth, a flicker of love,
and even the deepest sleeper can wake.
-by gRj