Poetry
Never did she speak her bloody stories.
Vision suffering from depression.
Nobody would know.
Nobody could tell.
Nobody would look.
Complete inaction.
We all are to blame.
Humans worship themselves.
Noticing other souls when convenient.
Success sentences people to happiness.
Not aware other things torch lives.
Feelings kept underground.
Nonchalance makes us careless.
Peace and yielding sometimes comes too late.
Peers talk with distant indifference.
Sitting beside but ions away.
She still speaks with reason.
She must be okay.
Her strangely animated voice heard the latter.
Humanity feels only complacent, never proactive.
Silent, the sadness was blaring.
We are all to blame.
Originally posted November 2020 on Medium
Kylie’s Rants 