Ever tired of the counterfeit, walking through a world shellacked in lies and fake faces.
Dulled out smiles, practiced reactions and apathy.
Searching for one real glance, some kind of heart recognition.
I don’t see on the outside, what I feel on the inside.
These games we all play, I struggle deep.
Rising to shake of the things the world has taught me, the things I hate.
Don’t trust anyone. Don’t be vulnerable. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.
Love, to a point. Give, at a limit. Fight, but only for yourself.
Money. Stuff. Image. Beauty. Popular. Lies. Bullshit.
Almost unable to fight it, because well, this is where I live. This barren wasteland for the heart.
But, I try.
To be defined by plastic trinkets, paper money and some version of a human being society has designed.
Am I the only one…who see’s this.
That the world never follows through on its promises.
A desire to fall to my knees in the busy street and scream..
The people rushing like mice to rotten cheese, through zig-zagged sidewalks.
Tears streaming, wake up dead eyes. Come to life hearts of stone.
Reaching out, hands shaking, to touch their garments.
Pulling and yanking on their jackets.
My knees wet and soaking with the morning rain, as their faces turn away.
I want love to blow through these streets.
I want to see them taken away by it, and fall next to me.
For flowers to grow through these broken street cracks.
Let me cry with you, we don’t have to be alone. Please wake up.
But only the clicking of their rushed heels on damp concrete.
Places to go, places to go, places to hide.
I see you. I’m looking. I’m praying.
Sun, pierce through the sky. Hot, heat bring them to life.
Draw out the glimmer of their eyes. The hope and light they carried with them when they were children.
Wind come and tear away their covers. The hardened armor they’ve been forced to wear.
Leave them exposed and raw, knees weak and buckled.
Light come, God calls. Fill them then, with the truth. A hope so deep their hands fall from their faces, and they laugh in the street.
Drawing up the left over drops of rain with their cupped palms and wash that weary fog from their eyes.
Let them wake and rise to the love story, to their destiny. Leave them satisfied with nothing but hearts filled with joy.
Spring trees from barren roots.
Rivers from the drought of their souls.
Rip out fear and burn its marrow.
Am I the only one who see’s?
It is not just me.
Scattered across the earth, I feel these same prayers.
Stand with me. Stand for them. STAND FOR HIM.
I refuse, to be defined by the rules of the world. By the rules of scarred hearts.
On my knees, soaked by the rain, cold drops of water falling down my eyelashes.
WAKE UP!!!!!! Oh people of courage. Stand.