Worry of the Humanity

The wind blows nicely, friendly around my body,  while I’m sitting on top of a pyramid where children can climb up and down. The sun is sinking as well as the temperature. There are only a view people around. Smoking. Walking. Standing. No talking can be  heard. I can hear the birds singing, can see them flying. The flowers are showing their beautiful blossom. They calm me down, let me thing straight.

Nothing is wrong. Nothing is out-of-place. Nothing is destroyed.

But I know the earth is crying, dying. Slowly we’re ruining the planet. We’re selfish. We leave it be. We choose not to see. always will be. There’s nothing we can do, that’s the way we are deep, deep down.

What we say is mostly not, what we think.
What we do is by far not, what we tell. What we could do is less than we really do.
What we have is never enough.
What we need is there, more we can use. So that we choose to throw it away.

We show more emotions, when fewer people die. How stupid is that?

When something happens we’re shocked only for a moment until we forget. We live, because it’s not us who it happens too. Silence. Quite not what we should be, but what we are because we fear about ourselves.

If no flower is blooming.
If we have no food to eat and
no place to sleep,
than we will notice for real how worthless money is.

 

Rin Yamashita _〆(。。)

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