The kid from the dark room
says, “Mr. can you help me?”
“No, I don’t want to. Want you to feel the drown
with my morning eyes that’s stuck in the dark,
and the darkness within, from which you were born,
born in the glimpse of light, but trapped in the shadows.
No, I don’t want to, for the light may pass
and the glimpse of hope may disappear,
lost in the vast horizon,
where the sun shifts its light, to make way for the dark.
For the darkness that defines us, and makes us pessimistic.
No, I cannot help, for if I do, you’ll see the blazing light.
The light that’s meant to end the wars, ended up causing them.
You are happy in the forsaken darkness
where you were supposed to be.
For the innocent eyes that meant for the dark
will be blinded with the cruel light.”