Running Away's Metaphor

Now listening to: Pedro the Lion

Now was the time that we had to take.
Then we started hiding,
Like refugees who flinch at the sky.
A paradox.
The sky is the limit.
No.
The sky is the fear.
We let a thing so glorious and beautiful
Scare us underground.
Building our hell.
Trying to remember what the sun feels like on our skin.
Thinking of what the dirty taste of rain is like.
Turning the soil below us.
Never looking up.
Deeper down we go.
Pure safety is almost at hand.
Yet, digging one's own grave
Was never as fun as the popular kids made it sound.

And, if we've dug long enough,

We can't remember which way is up.

Feelings of being stuck and lost are reasonable.

Not getting the hell out of our lives we hate,
Not getting our lives out of this hell we've made cozy,
Not recalling what the sky looks like,
Not asking others how they remember the perfect overhead,

is the hugest mistake we make.

We are the lonely.
We are the depressed.
We are the scared.
We are the worried.
We are the abused.
We are the insulted.
We are the hated.
We are the hateful.
We are the starved.
We are the self-centered.
We are the hurt.
We are the imperfect.

We are the people

time has waited for.

But, if we don't have hope,

No one shall.

If we don't stop digging to safety,

the world shall collapse.

Shalom.