Poetry - Among Us


 I received word today

that the gods and goddesses of old

were still among us. 

They have witnessed what we humans have become

and now they want nothing more to do with us.

Some of us, however, are worth "saving"

and it is those precious few

on whom they bestow their madness upon. 

These precious few shriek and scream and dance

among colours we have yet to see. 

These precious few tell us that we are being watched

and we give them a tin foil hat. 

These precious few tell us that THEY can see us

and we shun the messenger.

I lied; I am one of the proud few, the one

who can see them. 

I refuse to scream but instead, give my gods flowers

while they whisper words into my ears

that will turn into books that no one can comprehend.

I want to run away and hide

yet they will always find me.

I want to be normal and talk over a water cooler

yet they laugh at my foolishness.

All I can do is love my deities.

All I can do is dream about my new life.

All I can do. 

All. 



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