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.