Jun 09

My Head Underground

Is it wrong for me to ask so much of the world? To ask it to be happy, healthy, and kind? My concern is innately selfish, since my own well being depends on its state of mind.  

It cries and screams that it's given me so much. I keep scraping the bottom of the barrel, carving out cavern after cavern because I want a deeper meaning. I need a deeper meaning. The shallow love I’ve been given isn’t enough because the water barely reaches my shoulder making me contort and twist to fully submerge myself. 

I look out with pouty lips like a petulant child and a tired forehead like an old soul. I have spent so much time taking but not giving, begging but not getting, waiting or running for a change. I know anything worth doing must be done myself. But how? How do I wake the world when the universe remains deep in slumber?