ONCE HUMANS

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Say this aloud like a cry of despair but only to yourself just loud enough for you to hear… like a symbol, the resonance of our broken consciences as it hits the ground hatches this menace that overwhelms our sound mind.

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Why have we chosen to be gods? To put aside the thing which matters the most, love. I mean. In its true form, pure.
When we were humans, blood united us… it wasn’t just a river that flows under our skins, it brought us close, like clothes on skin.

In our closeness, we were open to each other, not having intentions concealed like mines, waiting for the right touch to go off. Once we were humans, we were really humans.

                                                                                                               An accidents scene was an opportunity to                                                                                                                                 save another man…   

What am I even saying? Who will love to turn up and help another? After all we do say “life is not balance”.
We were humans, weren’t void of remorse. We said sorry when we were wrong. Unity, like the broom, was what made us strong.

Let us go back to being humans… to the times when the word “bro” really meant brother, when we don’t start hating each other over their successes,
When a hand shake was actually a peace sign. To the times when our reasoning wasn’t our own undoing. When judgment was the responsibility of God alone.
Let’s go back... back to the days when children carry plates of Christmas rice across the street to give to other families,
When mama Georgina wasn’t seen as a prostitute just because she wears makeup and her husband died early.

Why can’t we go back? Back to the times when wearing a color clothes was expression of moods and not a sign of loyalty to a certain fraternity group?
I miss those days I miss when no one was trying to play god over anyone when we weren’t just alive, but actually leaving.