Is Life Even That Important

Is Life even that important?

This is a question of oddities

but with killings left and right,

and warfare in plain sight,

One may opt to ask the question.
From the onset of time,
Surviving has been the major goal of one,

But in battles, the emerging victor is none.

If it’s importance is above all,

then why do countries choose it’s downfall?

aren’t we the most precious thing of all?

If theories and concepts are made by man,
Then why are such theories destroying man?
How fearful does the future brings,

If the present do not preserve the important things.

Like peace and it’s never ending process

and children which promotes progress.

With all that’s that happening in the world,
One can’t help but reiterate the question

“Is Life even that important?”

-a poem written by my friend, who I shall refer to as G.D.

[UPDATE: GD now has a blog: The Old Wondering Soul. Do check her out! )

Seed

I won’t give up dreaming. If I can’t realize it now, I’ll work for a future where that dream can’t be harmed and where it can grow. I’ll plant the seed today so that even if I may not live to see it, my children can see the tree all-grown.

(Tree of Hope by InertiaK on DevianArt)

For the Children (part 1)

Children Of The World by Romero Britto

I want you to know you are beautiful.

No, not because you have those eyes,

No, not because you have that skin,

No, not because your house is this,

But in you is a blank art-piece.

Pure, untouched, responsive to Love.

You who within, God placed a Promise,

That this world may understand His Message.

His Message of True Peace.

-Growing Tree

Once there was a little girl. A bright young girl. Full of energy, full of wit, full of kindness. Like everyone, young and old, she yearned for love. And from her family, she received so much. Soon, she had to go to school.

Everybody was excited. She had gotten top grades, and was promising according to her teachers. But her family didn’t know of another pain she would face. They wouldn’t have imagined it…

One day at home, she looked through her mother’s dresser. She took out the powder, and shook so much of it out and into her palm. She covered her face, she covered her limbs and ran to her grandmother and mother.

“Am I beautiful now?” she asked.

And she isn’t the only one.

[to be continued]

(I want to be like a child)

image

I want to be like  a child,
Who knew only honesty,
Who only knew sincerity,
Who knew to give without a gift back,
Who trusted the good in anyone.. I may not be the child I once was,
I may not smile as often,
But I will never do anything to lose that child,
Who always smiled again after being broken.

(Cr topnews.in for the orig pic)

growingtree