You laughed when we suffered,
celebrated in our distress.

Those little games,
as if we didn’t see?

Awaiting the division,
in bits and pieces you wanted us to be.

Juggling with our emotions,
abusing our best,
you found ways to applaud your self-proclaimed triumph.

Even your psyche betrays,
where do you believe you stand?

Not even the slightest scratch exists,
your satisfaction remains as fantasy.

We stumble to mount again,
while you never experience our rise.

Quit wasting time over the credulity,
no one ain’t a requirement;
we are our own euphoria!

GREG RAKOZY AUSTIN SCHMID

 

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