Numbers

It is painful to see that life is counted by the amount of breathes we take

and not by the amount of moments that take our breathe away.

The confines of our mind is where we are kept busy with work, school,

bills and other shit we have to pay day after day.

Temporarily, we need to lose our minds in order to find ourselves,

for right now we can only see ourselves as elves.

Elves that have not seen anywhere past Santa's factory.

Life is lived as something that is primarily below satisfactory.

That is not a life worth writing about.

Why you may ask? because there is no separate route.

There is no step off of the beaten path.

This is caused by fear of the unknown.

We live in fear of moral and financial wrath.

So afraid of losing what we think is ourselves that we never really

take a chance to find out who we truly are.

There is more to everyone than just a job, home, stress and saving for a new car.

We need to make ourselves go far.

Physically far to a distant land  such as Qatar.

Just somewhere that is more valuable than our locar bar. 

Anywhere out of the regular is good.

There is beauty in being lost, and that beauty is the motivation it 

gives us to find who we want to be and where we want to go.

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world

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