Thursday, October 2, 2008

Untitled

Connected
But there’s a disconnect
We fly through
Life. Unconcerned
With the world
Outside our own.

Disconnected
From the past and
From each other
Our history clashes
With indifference and
Breeds, festers into
Ignorance

Horrors then and
Now. We watch
And listen only to just
Keep on moving
Separate ways
Unimpressed

Unknowing, uncaring
Now with knowledge at
Our fingertips
Still scanning over it like
So many numbers, making
Souls only statistics

Millions of numbers
Of people, silhouettes
We refuse them
Their faces, their
Names, so we don’t
Have to think,
Don’t have to feel.

No one talks of
Atrocities committed
Not even a whisper
We can’t acknowledge
The people we’ve lost
And are losing still

Generations of
Silence between us
Hurts too much to
Speak of the things they
Saw and they heard
And so remain unspoken

And here we sit
Unaffected. Blasé about
Sacrifice, massacre and
Struggles fought with greatest price
For the lives of those
Who live yet

Connected, yet not,
We sit in our own
Little place, in
Our own little world
And forget the cost
That others have paid
And pay still.
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