Day 142 – The World Loves A Beautiful Arsonist

I was born buried deep in the snow
I was born gripped tightly in chains
I learned to build raging fires
but the sting of the iron remains

The world loves a beautiful arsonist
The world loves a singer of flames
It celebrates those who can set it ablaze but
It notices nothing of chains

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Day 100 – Lifeblood

We were born in a world
that promised us love,
that preached us backyard summers,
that taught us the value of honest work

We were born in a world
that fed us cinema,
that baited us with dreams it spun,
that led us to the brink and let us go

Come to find,
love’s a scheme we can’t afford
Come to find,
our honest work is not enough
Come to find,
we don’t deserve the things
we selfishly assumed
that we had every right
to desire

And so we are a generation spoiled by
ideology that we did not approve;
now we are a congregation ruled by
technology that we did not invent

Yet we’re the ones who have to fix the system,
the honest work for which they trained us up-
and we don’t have
any lifeblood
to spare.

Day 15 – Kings

What do you do
when you are small
and the world is unfair?

What do you do
when you can’t stand up,
can’t prove it,
can’t speak out,

but can’t keep on
the same way anymore?

What do you do
when you’re right
but no one cares?

What do you do
when they’ll laugh if you quit
but keep spitting if you carry on?

Do you turn to stone?
Do you just go mad?

Do you write a poem
and call it a day?

Are we all going to die
like this
either way?

Or are some of us
really
born kings?