#ArtisticFridays: Everybody wants to rule the world

Finding purpose

Is like scavenging the earth for precious stones,

You will not always know that everything that shines amidst the dirt

Might just not

Be Gold,

Nor the pursuit- worth it.

You will learn on your feet.

Learn to kick the ball swaddled with plastic bags like a roll of yarn

And hope for the best.

Child of corn,

You watch your father draw in his yield of fish from the delta,

Dragging his canoe ashore

And understand the tragic import behind an honest living

But of course you want more than that

You scour about the sands only to find nothing but old rocks

And parched cactus whose burnt-up hands raised towards the sky like a

Nomad amidst worship

Praying to the raging sun that it

Takes it slow

The thorns in your feet, the dust on your clothes

You are nothing but a lost boat caught in the thoughts of a brooding ocean.

Don’t you wish you could just want and get?

You know that tomorrow lies another given.

This world is not yours yet, child, however

What’s not to believe in?

 

– Ghost