Green Thumb

Every day the skeletons in my backyard sing And every day I water their flowers I take care of them; make bouquets out of them Every night I sang them lullabies To drown out the howling sounds Because the more these flowers bloom The less people are able to tell… It’s an absolute party down there

The Green Field

We sit on the edge of nature. My friends and I, on a green pasture. We guard the field since the beginning, Guarding peace and harmony above everything.   You humans used to come and go, As there was no living space before. But once you created one, you remained. And since then, our lives began to change.   When the day ended, the bustle would fade, We’d look up to the sky and watch the sunset. We cherish those moments with you, Just staying quiet and basking in the view.   One day, came a young child with bright, Warm, brown eyes and short height. She was loving, gentle, and careful. Our days with her were always beautiful.   Because of that child, more humans came to us. And we protected them as one would. We made an unspoken promise. Unexplainable For you humans, but––for us––it was simple.   As we grew old, the city became busier, more alive. While others turned away, the girl with brown eyes Continued to stay. We watched her grow Alongside the city you call home.   Suddenly, she was gone and I became older, My skin rougher and my leaves withered. They say wisdom comes with age, but I could not foresee The roaring of the machines that would ravage the field.   I hear my friends scream. I hear the agony of their pleas. I have never witnessed such a slaughter Or felt such pain and such anger.   You pretend you can’t hear. You close your eyes so you can’t see. You leave and wash your bloody hands. Remove the dirt and dusty sands.   Perhaps the skies feel sorry for me. For they cry and wash away their bodies. It makes things easier for you, right? You don’t have to see your own blight.   How many moons has it been? Hard to gauge when all I see Are grey concrete and dull nights, The stars refusing to show their light.   Why should my friends be gone? Why I should remain? Not one Day would go by without me Wondering of what could’ve been.   “It’s a new start,” I always hear. But can you see the consequences of your greed? Your new start meant the death of my friends. Your beginning is––to many––their end! Hope is no longer something I can reach. It’s just nothing but a distant dream. Everyday I live like it’s my last. Always scared of you repeating your past.   A vehicle arrives to the concrete home you built. A husband opens the door to his wife’s seat. He takes her hand and leads her out. She cradles Their newborn. She looks troubled.   Our eyes meet for a second, Before anything happens, The husband calls for her. “It’s a new start,” he murmurs.   Today, I sit here, winter biting my skin, Leaves all dried, weak, and thin. I thought I was alone, but then I see her. I recognise that girl.   The same bright brown eyes, But much taller in height. She looks at me, and Says, “I miss you, old friend.”   Instead of her newborn in her arms, She guards something else from harm. A small sapling, Now sits beside me.   “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

The Search of Glory

Warning: This article is full of metaphors. Everyone wants to be someone. Chances are, at a very young age, we were all asked about what we wanted to be when we grow up. It is a quest many of us have undertaken as we journeyed through our days in school and university to find a future occupation that we will stick to for the rest of our lives, before subsequently retiring with a happy marriage as our children undergo the same process. This is the normal and perfect path of life, which most people aspire to live for. However, there are those of us who decide to take the road less travelled within the yellow wood. What prompts someone away from the well-worn path used by the majority of people can be attributed to a myriad of reasons, but one thing that will be true is that the choice to do so will not be taken lightly.
There will be some who criticize, or even mock, the ones who decide to take the untrodden path.
  The road less travelled refers to the idea of the one who strays from the ideal life path, such as dropping out of secondary or tertiary educations in pursuit of other paths. There are a variety of people who do this and they contribute to a vast set of outcomes. But unless they achieve something greater than the rest of us, the choice of leaving formalised education is seen to be ‘rebellious’ as it conjures images of black leather jackets, torn jeans, degeneracy: the usual punk stereotypes; or for others, the hippie, pot-smoking, nomadic stereotypes. Yet, how do people get the interest to act against the customary flow of education?
Glory is everyone’s destination, but not everyone makes it.
One way to sum it up is with the word: "glory". Backtrack to the time we were asked what we wanted to do in the future, we were also told that everyone is special, and that all futures are special. We were also taught that success is found in the first place, where we felt the most special as compared to, say, second place, third place, or even last place. Everyone is special, but some are more special than others. It becomes a competition between us — on who is more special — that carries over to adulthood.
Glory makes people feel special and it comes in the form of social status and wealth.
And as any rapper can tell you, nothing feels more special than spending tons of money on your heart’s desire. Rappers and hip-hop artists are exemplars of success through rebellious means if only to achieve a glory demonstrated to them through their idols. The reality may not be as bright as the music paints it, but it is still a lifestyle that has a certain degree of attractive flair. Electronics do the same to fascinate the youth, with all the colors and quick bursts of euphoria with each small success of social media or video gaming through screens of many sizes. And all it takes is a few years of coding and art design that doesn’t require a university degree. Who wouldn’t want to spread profitable joy and electronic art by making games and apps? But the hunger for glory runs deeper.   Hip-hop and electronics share the same thread of being flashy enough for the youth to follow. Because the youth know everything, they will tread through blistering winds and scorching deserts to achieve the same glory of being that flashy as the idols that gave them that bling. The older generation may look down on their decisions to turn away the opportunities provided, but the young would know better and scoff. It’s not that they are denying the fruits of their forefathers, but rather that they are creating new realms for the next generation.
Through their own opportunities they would create, not only material and social wealth for themselves, but also carve out their faces in the mountain of time, forever facing forward for the next youth to look back on.
Some would be lost on their path, even if they did take the safe route only because they took a wrong turn, whether by naivety or by distraction. If they do make it out, they won’t necessarily reach glory, but stop by at a lovely village where they can rest indefinitely. It’s not glory, but it’s comfortable for those from all walks of life. Comfort is special, but not special enough for the pilgrims of glory. They march on from the village, either making a path for others or never to be seen again. Everyone appreciates an open and easy road to travel on, and they will thank the one who dared go ahead for glory. Because in the end everyone wants to be special, but there are others that want to be more so than others.