In, Not of, the World

I do not smile at the world,
I look it plainly in the eye.
I do not accepts its pat remarks,
I press it for the “why”.

I do not appease the world,
I dare it to reach new heights.
The world and I do not agree,
And against my mind it fights.

It hammers at my emotion,
It serves up its best lust,
I dare not to give in,
The world insists I must.

But I do not obey the world,
I look it plainly in the eye,
As my own fill up with tears-
The world, it does not cry.

The world it does not feel,
The world it does not care,
Its destination is destruction,
And it’s racing there.

It is speeding full ahead,
In its sports car plated gold,
Under the control of alcohol,
Just as it has been told.

I try to save the world,
I try to flag it down,
I look it straight in the eye,
As it chugs one more down.

The world is flying past me,
It seems I’m standing still,
I look the world straight in the eye,
And I hope it is not real.

I hope it is not real, I say,
I hope the world is fake,
And of course it is, I know,
Both in model and in make.

The world is not so pretty-
As it strives so hard to be.
It is no so wise either,
As anyone can see.

But the world, it does exist,
Just enough to harm,
Just enough to ruin itself
And try to twist my arm.

I do not appease the world,
Instead, I dare it to new heights,
It does not like my dare,
Against my mind it fights.

The world, it is not changing,
But it is lending me a hand,
In deciphering my own purpose,
And giving reason to my stand.

I will stand up to the world,
I will look it in the eye.
I will speak to it with sense,
I will try and I will try.

I will attempt what is in my power,
I hope to be not all alone,
I hate to deal with the world,
When it’s drunk and stoned.

I hate to look it in the eye,
Only to see what it could be.
I hate how the world makes me feel,
When it looks back at me.

It begs for help as it mocks me,
It pleads in silence for my hand.
And when outstretched,
It does not understand.

The world does not understand me,
It does not share my vision,
And so my outstretched hand,
I pull back with one condition:

That no more will I outstretch it,
No more will I even care,
No good it does to fight madness,
When the maniac knows not its there.

I look the world straight in the eye,
I have no remorse,
It is the world that has done this,
It has chosen its own course.

I take a walk amongst the world,
I meditate in its rain,
I almost think it is not the world,
Maybe I am insane.

I contemplate my purpose,
As the rain comes pouring down,
In the world, not of the world,
Is the only answer to be found.

1 Reply to “In, Not of, the World”

  1. I really like this. It was easy to read and clearly thought out well. I love the message and feel like I can relate.

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