The profit of greed
Is the only thing they need.
Man want more,
For the seeds they sow.

I profit more,
Till I start to pour.
I take others lives,
To feed my fearful lies.

I take what’s free,
To monopolize and fee.
Oh, you think you’re free?
I lock, no key.

What further more,
Shall suffer need.
I take before,
Your life, I feed.

They do this more,
The plagues saturate the poor.
All I need is myself alone,
To finally destroy humanities stone.

Raindrops dangle from the gnarled tree's ripe berries.
Like suspended sparkling tears that revolt the fall.
As we falsely be merry.
Inevitably the teardrop will fall to ground.
Why did it cling so hard.
Below eyes of iris shards.
You might get an- oh be strong.
How dare you to peddle advice
Without ever standing in my shoe.
Tears hid inside veins, as words form lies.
A mother somewhere echoed- hide your teardrops.
Conceal your pain.
When someone asks how you are,
do they really care to know?
Pleasantries do not like mention of despair.
Once in a blue moon an angelic human creature may actually care.
To reenter the wound with you.

fabric

became mutual agreement

enough to make us silently lie.

this is how you rise.
           shed the old, reshape the rest.  
                 stand straighter, speak softer —  
                      beauty is just another word for belonging.  

step into the light.  
           let the fabric drape just right.  
                      let the colors speak for you.  

      (if it glitters,  
                 does it matter  
                       if it suffocates?)  

  cut the hair.  
          swallow the accent.  
   paint the lips  
                the color of currency—  
                      polished,  
                              bloodless.  

       now you are seen.
   now you are wanted.
now you exist.

smile wider.
let the teeth gleam.
walk taller.
let the rhythm match.
speak carefully.
let the voice lose its edges.

(soften.
soften.
disappear.)

lovely, isn’t it?
      to be chosen?
           to be one of us?

isn’t it?