How inhuman do we have to be?
That we can’t feel emotions,
Unless they are served on a platter,
Displayed, voiced, acted and alienated.
That we struggle to hide our pain
And pleasure then, becomes a matter of 'lack of pain',
Or painful ends for others
That happiness becomes relative,
Life subjective with different adjectives,
That an empty emotion, unknown, unexplained and commercialised,
Becomes love!
That more is less,
That struggle to survive results in lust for more and greed for better,
That dreams are materialised
and freedom priced against pay packages,
Meant to win deals and loose selves!
How inhuman do we have to be, before we will try and be human again?
