Oblivion

This oblivion. Sometimes it is good.
Many times, like now, it is killing
Like it were alive.
Stabbing and jeering at us. As if we have been enemies since centuries

 

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The Ease of Pointing a Finger

“What do you do this for
this seeking attention
what pleasure?”

The suddenness of the question
the stab, the pain
what had I done so wrong?

“You are passing signals
allowing their thoughts to go berserk
what fun arousing their imagination?”

I kept wondering
how wrong could a smile be
sharing a laugh in the tragedy of life!

I conjecture at the perceptions
how environments, upbringing work
the ease of raising a finger!