This World That Takes
This World That Takes
I gave too much.
A chalice filled to the brim,
pouring over,
love spilling, although unasked for,
but the world took it anyway.
It takes.
All it does is take.
It absorbs every light, every warmth,
leaving none to spare, none to return.
People—so consumed by their mirrors,
worshipping their own reflections.
Social media becomes their altar,
their source of love, their sense of giving.
They pour themselves into screens,
into curated images, fleeting likes,
forgetting that we stand here,
in the real world, arms outstretched,
offering love, offering compassion.
But they don’t see us.
They can’t see past the glow of their screens.
I believed in love, in giving, in healing.
I thought the world could change,
that it could soften beneath the weight of care.
But this world grinds those who love
into dust.
It chews through the tender,
spits out the remains.
Perhaps it’s not me who is broken.
Perhaps it’s the world.
This world isn’t good enough for me.
For a heart that holds oceans,
for love immeasurable for unyielding soil.
Perhaps the fault isn’t mine,
but in the world that took and never saw.
Still, I wonder—
how much longer can I pour myself out,
before I fade into the very dust it leaves behind?
Written by:Hannah McMorris
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