the same damned world
did you see the world end,
or your semi-inquisitive mind
tricked you into believing
that the concept of parallel worlds
would come to your rescue,
just for one day
when you believe
you aren't here just to someday
trade your senses for an unknown.
today you've enough time
to mind an animation on screen,
the way bees buzz in it,
twerking in mid-air
remind you of people you know live
at some parallel latitude,
their bodies sliding along a pole,
feet raised as high as a pedestal;
you can't believe its the same world.
somewhere in your nation,
a feminine heart is struggling
within a priviledged body,
another women wants to believe
her ashes would make it
to the land beyond
where she would finally live.
and you're here cursing stocks,
munching grilled sandwiches for lunch,
and minding your own business.
there's so much going on in this world,
at this moment,
that you've no knowledge about.
you haven't seen much of the world,
you haven't lived enough either.
but the endless hours of waiting
for an interview,
the many doses of caffeine
you've sipped on,
for the mere and yet herculean task
of surviving another day
and minding your own business
is still a lot to take in.
it's always a lot,
and it's never enough
to live and let live.
but is it so tough, really?