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A Poem.
A middleman has always been dangerous.
Mostly make sure the ends never meet,
a very few help bridge the gap,
for who would walk towards its own end.
Whoever the creator was, gave us two eyes.
Perspective was the team’s goal,
with no plans of a middleman existence.
Look, understand, communicate, discuss, respect
and decide were a few other tasks.
One would be enough for a 6-inch screen.
What have we done to our brains?
From a myriad of opinions to black or white, right or wrong, me or you, us or them.
Still creating new gods?
Why can’t we be just we?
Afraid that a new perspective might infiltrate our truth
or let’s call it a lullaby.
So we keep singing the same lullaby, disillusioned.
Abandoning other’s, unaccepting and disrespectful
to anything that questions our peaceful nights.
A canvas would be the blandest, if only in one colour.
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