The weight of the world lifted away and I was left with its skin
and much like my own
I see the scars left by fellow humans on its fragile, and most mighty layers because the hands of a creator are delicate with their intentions while human eyes are built to see beauty but only manage to see problems
And this is a problem, you see. Despite my ironic consequence, trust me, I’ve breathed a toxic status quo.
it’s 12 years time if you rape someone, but you could bend that rule
so tell me now, what’s the sentence for raping a living planet?
but the convict is not the one who places blame
the planet must have wanted it, because it was clothed for living things
we’ve already discussed the hands of human beings—they’re unloving at best, demanding and unremitting fit the picture better
even though I too have scars of human fault, the injustice is even greater towards the one who offered life
take and take is all humans can see, but if our skin is just like Mom’s, is that how we should be?