The sky is not falling
Chicken Little went home
I wish this corrupted land was not my home
The politicians flew too close to the sun
I have now learned how a cheeto can run
The sky is falling
The world is grey
This is not how the world should stay
So I will write poems
And try to be loud
Until the sky is rebuilt
Every
Single
Cloud.
Posted in response to the challenge Sky.
It's so interesting that a country founded by people from hundreds of different places now looks down upon immigrants.
I will fight forever
When it seems like all is lost I will fight harder
When I trip and fall I will bleed words and be stronger
When I can no longer write I will speak until they cower
I have never been quite sure if books were truly just words on paper, the ideas of authors who are just ordinary people or if they are magic incarnate.
Because they have never, ever just been words on paper to me.
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