We Are the Weeds

I feel sane in a mad world
How I wish to be mad like the others
I want to hide under the covers 
And pretend I am free

My logic is chaotic here
Where fear is power and kindness is rare 
I have no place in such a place
This is the torment I face

I feel myself become distant
I want no association with this tyrant
I want no ties to dead environments 
I want to thrive to not feel guilt for being alive

Because I do
Its either there's no food 
Or there's no room 
But I have both 
And so many don't

Our lives and our meanings
Have become assets of greed
we are no longer the gardeners 
we are the weeds
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace