Categories
Poetry

Human Unplugged

It’s never an even road.

Life.

To lose yourself

in great chunks of confusion.

To take to the floor,

to scrape at the earth

for answers.

I am love, this I know.

I am peace, this I know.

But I am also a silent mess

of human unplugged,

gasping for air

just like the rest.

We are broken,

and we break others.

We blame

but we are to blame, ourselves.

When will the circle

find it’s neat and tidy

end?

When will the circle find it’s neat and tidy end.

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