The Land of the Living
Despair...and a little hope
In the land of the living
Lies become truth
And the truth is a lie
In the land of the living
Humans hate and kill one another
Because monsters with ugly hearts tell them this is just
In the land of the living
Children starve while the privileged gorge
Crying fake tears on their behalf
In the land of the living
The wealthy sneer at the poor
They have hoodwinked into seeing them as benefactors
In the land of the living
The color of skin or who one loves
Can get a human killed
“Why would anyone want to go there?”
“Because, child,”
In the land of the living
Those exist who correctly believe
There is always a chance that good will prevail
I don’t often write poetry. Though this is written in stanzas, I still see it more as poetic prose. But I have no formal training in poetry, so I could be completely wrong.
The beginnings of this came to me as I was lying down to sleep. The rest I handwrote the following day. I haven’t handwritten a story in years. That day I wrote two. The other, based on a prompt from Jason McBride of Weirdo Poetry, is, oddly, not a poem. Stay tuned. It publishes Saturday.
In the meantime, I encourage you to check out Jason’s publication. It’s a little off the wall in all the ways that I love.
Can we call that living? Thanks for the little bit of hope.
I really enjoyed this, Dascha. The turn at the end is so fitting!
Jason’s prompts and exercises always get me thinking and trying different approaches. I love what he does over at Weirdo Poetry!