Something is always trying
to crush the spark in my eyes,
trying to wear me down slowly
until it disappears forever.
Trying to wear me down
with routines,
with values,
worries,
traditions,
with cold expectations
that pretend they are loving,
until there's nothing left.
Trying to convince me
that none of it is real,
the things I know in my heart,
the dreams I want to create in life,
the things that come out
through this spark in my eyes.
Trying to tell me
I'm wrong to believe in love,
that it's wrong to have fun
and live in joy,
to believe in passion,
to want a revolution
inside everyone's eyes.
Something is always trying
to destroy the spark
that comes out of my soul,
the spark that's screaming to you,
join me and fight
while we still can breath
and bleed
and cry.
Trying to drain it out of me
with commercials and newspapers,
with logic and rational thought,
with religion and mythology,
with insidious lies
that are really lies because they claim
to be the truth.
Trying to suck it out like a vampire
slowly drinking the blood
that is this spark in my eyes,
but the blood just keeps flowing
and the vampires just keep drinking.
Something is always trying to blot out
this precious spark in my eyes
so that you can't see it,
so I can't see it in you,
until, utterly defeated and sad,
we finally stop believing
that it was ever there to begin with.
Trying to isolate us from each other,
trying to convince us we're all alone
and that this is the way
things really should be and are,
that life is a bitch
and then you just die.
Trying to make us all believe
the important things in life
are money and cars,
your job and your credit score,
your career and the things you create,
your nation,
your biological family,
your responsibilities to society.
It can't seem to understand
this spark that shines in my eyes
when I look in the mirror
and remember who I really am,
this spark that I see
when I meet someone who has remembered
where they really came from.
It can't seem to understand
that no matter how much it tries
to wear me down,
to wear us all down,
that spark will always exist
in somebody,
somewhere.
It doesn't understand
what the spark means
so it does everything it can
to bury it in the dusty mud
of the graveyard it tells us is our lives.
Something is always trying
to crush the spark in my eyes,
trying to wear me down until it's gone,
but it never will
now that I know
the spark is there.
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