IT’S A girl
The three deadliest words in the world.
So many keep disappearing just because of the flip of the coin.
No more pink rattles in the lands of golden dragons.
No more pink ballet recitals in the flooded lands of a million deities.
We live in a world?
On a place called...Earth?
This is the planet of life?
Thus we have genocides, such hypocrisy.
Well, forget about the slaughter of the star.
Who allows this? The dragons?
The multi-armed gods?
Ain’t that something.

Everybody is throwing in the blood-stained, woven towels.
And the cradles...with the pink bowed babies.
Even the people’s hope is going out the hole in the wall.
Without the compass.
Some of us call it a window.
Some of us call it a door.
Others...a fireplace with their reflections.

Kind hearted souls try to move the massive, brimstone gargoyle.
But the sheer ugliness and the size of it would defeat the kindred spirits.
I weep of how powerless I am,
Against the gruesome statue.

Maybe some day it’ll all change.
Some night...some year?
Some society...in some eon perhaps.

Some people.