My Squad
Its a place I've been a thousand times, with a thousand memories, with people who I can no longer tell if they are friends or just a squad. I'm the inside of the crowd, but my heart stands outside this world. I fathom my own thoughts here in this moment, with these people who make me feel free and restricted all at once. I can laugh and put a smile on my face but in the darkest parts of my mind I can't find my place. I'm sitting here so unsure, and so wronged and nothing feels right. The room is full of light but myself walks only in the night. I sit here in my second home, mcondalds is the place I've once felt most shown, but often, I feel alone. But in my house the yelling is all I can feel, it my problem, my deal. But its hard not to kneel. So hide away in this squad of mine, pretend they are enough for me, but still, I feel like I can't breath.
Why can't people be loved for who they are, not who they could be, who they were?
Why can't people forgive and (sometimes) forget?
Why are people judged for their looks?
Why are people afraid to stand up for what is right?
Why do people treat other people as if the others were dirt?
Why do people kill? Hurt? Torture?
Why can't people love the earth, not destroy it?
Why can't people see that education is important?
Why do people ruin children's childhoods?
Why can't people just love?
Why?
The Trap of Everyday Boredom
How I hate you. You creep in at every stopped moment. You infect me with the tiredness of routine. Because of you, I desperately yearn for a change. With every day the same, I crave adventure. With you in my head, I no longer care. Until schedule breaks and I am given the bravery of rebellion, I know it will not change. So let me find the day. A day free of this retched boredom.
