Newfound Land of Hope

My eyelids open only to the calamitous ongoings of what surrounds me,

blame the pessimism imprisoned in me

or the prison lovers that feed the fillers.

But that is not the only thing that fills my knowings and yet-knowings.

I have discovered that bloodshed and gore is not the only human way,

there surely is a humane way, or the world would’ve collapsed,

and not be on the verge of it.

I’ve seen it in the eyes of the ladies who feed the animals, and animal-like walking aimlessly, home-lessly.

I’ve seen it in the eyes of the child who gave the unlucky,

what made her privileged by borrowing.

I’ve observed it in the heart of the shopkeeper,

who let the child take what she visited for,

with a single look at the bruise made on her arm.

I’ve observed it in the work of the lady who merely washes our dishes,

dreaming of her child who struggles taking a bath on her own,

even at the age of 18.

‘She is still a child’- she says, who if left outside,

would be devoured by the filthy,

that we hear and see, but do not witness.

I’ve observed it in the swiftness of my sister’s paintbrush,

when she paints cards for me, hoping I do not forget her,

She has a smile on her face that only lasts a few innocent years.

I’ve greeted it when my closest strangers gave me enough courage

to open myself to conversations,

I thought I could have only with myself.

I’ve been it in the way I exist these days.

Being ignorant isn’t the way,

but being a beautiful fool for the beautiful surely is!

And if this is the way then, I never want to learn about anything but the kind.

I will hear the evil, but only let the lovely live in my language.