I thought I was so close, but I am so far.
The wind blows by me like a shooting star.
I cannot feel the wind.
I cannot feel the heat.
For I am numb at how far I am from the mountain top.
How far I am from the center.
As death whispers over others, it consumes me.
As I notice history repeating itself slowly.
I am taught to pledge allegiance to a flag that stands for liberty and justice for all, but I ask-who is all?
When my garden is dying because the rain does not fall from the sky, but from my somber eyes.
As it touches my skin, I hope the world goes colorblind.
So my flowers can bloom without fear of dying.
So my seeds can grow and know things are better.
Because without the rain we are dried up like a desert, and without peace we are take over by evil.
We thought we were so close, but we are still so far.