WRITTEN IMAGES

HYPOCRISY

I can’t see it. Where is it? Like atoms, and molecules and atomules: everywhere. And it’s killing us, silently, beneath the guise of protection, as we turn on ourselves by turning on each other–a suicide–a homicide–silent dreams, that nobody hears, nor wants to–until now. Happy dreams and sweet dreams will not be forced on anyone. We will no longer use as an excuse, “but they didn’t respect us or give us the same courtesy”. The teacher, the real teacher, will return in all of us, not as a lesson to be learned, but as a hand to be held.






 

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