to be happy with the world, you have to be disillusioned by it.
the world is not a political place, not a sad place, there is no hierarchy, no evil, no power.
we're all equal, flowers, trees, towers and bees. the world cannot scare you.
to be happy with the world, you have to be naïve.
you cannot have knowledge.
knowledge is the crusher of purity,
the extinguisher of innocence.
no, you must be naïve,
like a school girl leaving the house alone for the first time,
the world is a giant lollipop,
that you could contently hold, just to feel proud,
to feel the power,
of what others don't have, but you do.
that power isn't fake,
in a way it makes you more powerful then anyone,
astronauts, presidents, school teachers, trapeze artists.
this power doesn't stem from the branches of knowledge,
the limbs of greed,
the stems of egotistical daisies.
this power is emptiness,
not the drained shallow breathing of the empty soul,
but a blank canvas,
a cloudless sky,
a newborn bird,
who cannot yet fly.
if we all went backwards,
tripping, falling, delving, swirling.
into the past,
into the time we spent on ghost stories, and bitten nails.
maybe then we'd see this empty sky,
this dying bird,
this rusted page, of a book never read.
this sweet revenge,
of a mind unbridled.
of purity renewed,
and innocence returned.