We Can Not Stop Caring

I look out my window and recall how everything seemed to be so uncomplicated,

At 5, I saw the innumerable possibilities of things I could sculpt out of the mud

At 10, my imagination ran wild, tracing dragons in the clouds and celestial beings in the stars 

At 15, my thoughts became refined as a I propounded upon the minutest of details like the potential of the lone dandelion swaying in the calm breeze

And now, at 17, looking out my window, despite all the wonders that I mused upon as I look out my window, I can not help but to be transfixed upon the,

Houses occupied by people I’ve never spoken to 

The strides of people who don’t look like me

Visual expressions of people who don’t dress like me

Sounds of those who don’t speak the same language as I

The trot of a hearse as the procession leaves my neighbours house

Everything around me encased in a cold air, 

We have isolated ourselves from those around us and are only partly content in our own bubbles 

I feel as though we have to be more than just ourselves

Or flowers around graves will become a rarity

Entrapped in the tasteless pleasures of isolation

There will be endless moments when others need us

 and we must alway by their sides 

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