Burst Bubble

A Poem By Kassady // 3/27/2017

Burst Bubble

And I stood
happy
I was surrounded in a bubble
Light so sweet
It filtered the world
Rose tinted
I was
Happy
And I stood
Innocence a ledge
To which I looked down from
But the earth trembled
Bubble bursting
Barricades of ignorance
Torn down
I ran to cover
But the injustice of the world
Engulfed me
I sat there
Crying
On a step in a winding staircase
Steep
Like the treacherous society we live in
And why hasn’t it been mended
Bridges never built across streams
How is there a difference
Between each side
When it’s an inch divide
And I sigh for
Humanity
I dream of my bubble
Rose tinted
Smashed to bits
A hundred slivers of hope lying
In pieces
Just like the figures huddled
On the streets
Blankets so thin they are transparent
Wrapped round
Shoulders of a victim
Society setting impossible standards
Falling through the cracks
Like a handful of beach
Rocks stay
Sand strays
I wonder and I watch
A hundred voices seen
not heard
Media just another visual aid
For the blind
And I sat there crying
On a step in a winding staircase
At a neck- breaking angel
Adjacent to the neck-breaking pace
Of this world
A hundred pairs of feet stomping
Anger in the hearts of the fast
The drive-thru expectants
Looking for another cheap thrill to support
Feel good
Till stomachs churn full of guilt
Rotten meat
Inhumane indulgences licking up the life
Of a manufactured living organism
It’s convenient
Like the side-long glance at open hands
Bright orange ear-plugs in a jar
Blocking out the begging
But bragging about your lobbying
And I cry
As I watch those impassioned imposters
Smile at my efforts to help the poor
Smile at the doors while passing the human on the floor
Begging for just a little bit more
Than nothing
Is nothing what you feel?
Is this empathy?
Sympathy, spoken of
Not actively pursued
And I cry
As I shame you
For every word that’s slipped into a lie
For all the “good” you bring to this world
How can you
When you are just one step up
From those in need?
Impossible standards
The rich torn apart for fortune
Jealousy a jester to be sent
Like an assassin
Killing the hope of those impoverished
Seeking more but shamed
Shamed for reaching the top
Ain’t that how ladders work
Top rungs missing
Falling
Those who look up with logic
Know they can never reach their dreams
Dreams supported by lies
The lies of those who lie low
Whisper encouragement
Than tear you down
For achievement
And I sat there crying
In an abandoned spiral staircase
Feeling the privilege sitting
Like a million-dollar coat
It doesn’t fit
Itches
Hurts
No returns or cash back
For the color of your skin
And the gender you choose
Just an unending list of double-standards
Sitting on the skulls of society
Is there no chance to shake them off?
Is there any chance to reinvent my bubble?
Rose tinted unawareness
Of a world so ******* selfish
How the **** am I supposed to deal
With everything I feel
When my opinion can be offensive
When my actions are rejected
When society says I’m power erected
When all I feel is objected
To the complaints of those
Who do nothing to fix the problem
Is there no tool kit
That can mend all these ties that are frayed
Fire inflamed hearts of the comfortable
And I sit
Watching the fury unfold
As if the ballroom is a magic reflecting pool
Staring at the same scene
Eleven years old
Watching furious cardboard signs
Plastered with tea related quips
Conservatives congregating in sinking ships
Pause
Hit fast forward and play
I sit and see the exact same
Everyone reflects flames in their eyes
The liberals lying on their swollen bellied sides
Acting the victim of conservative lies
When each party looks in a mirror
Twins dressed in different colors
I sat there
Crying
On a step in a winding staircase
Steep
Like the view from the top
Of the pigsty heap

Comments

Hi Kassady! It's nice to read

Hi Kassady! It's nice to read something of yours again. :) Interesting piece. I especially liked your use of pause/fast forward/play - that gave a really unique visual.
Sounds like your class was...not exactly uplifting. I like to think that helping out in our own communities - however small that may seem - can help in some way, like a ripple effect or something. I can imagine that after taking a class at the capital, problems seem too huge for hometown service to have any kind of major effect, making me sound naive. :P Anyway I enjoy reading culturally inspired poetry - thanks for posting!

Hannah D. | Mon, 03/27/2017

"Reason itself is a matter of faith. It is an act of faith to assert that our thoughts have any relation to reality at all." - G. K. Chesterton

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