The World

Does the world just fall,

suspended from a chain,

hung above the ceiling,

in this universe, we claim.

This world made of play-doh,

and the sands, scraps of paper,

from this book that we tear apart,

called life.

And the water - a mix of tears,

from the cries of the adults.

The very same tears we shed,

as kids.

And the world has been changing,

lost track of love and peace,

and after all that we can do together,

we dont make any changes - none the least.

We try to love the haters,

and but envy the lovers,

that have something you wish,

could be yours.

You shed the tears that you did,

the same day you first fell,

on the first week you walked,

in the first year you loved.