The Human Race
https://powerpoetry.org/poems/human-race-12
Some run fast, some run slow
Some fall behind and don't know which way to go
The scenery changes from seeing the track straight ahead
They see darkness closing in, they get these thoughts in their head
They could keep running, but they become used to the essence of black
They can't see anyone, they feel so alone, because it's vision they lack
They sit and ponder
They don't dare and wander
Sitting alone in the accidental mess, crying for help with a silent voice
Going backward, asking, failing, blaming themselves for their choice
Never trying to move forward, they can't, what if it hurts? What then?
But they don't understand, staying still hurts more when
They say they try, while they sit and cry and get comfortable being still
It's a heavy darkness, but you go in and out with free will
Some run fast, some run slow
Some live their lives on speed and go where no one knows
The scenery changes from seeing the track in front and back
Wait- whose back there? Some Leslie, Joe, or Jack?
High alert, scared, hearing voices, what do they do?
So scared of others, they knock them down the moment they come through
Be it foe or friend, they choose more of one than the other
So paranoid someone's out to get them, they never love another
They run on high, running backward to make sure no one is behind
But in the very end, they've become so blind
People run past them, and they don't see, they've toppled themselves
Fallen from the anxiety, the one that overwhelms
They find themselves stopping, but their feet are still running
So blind, they can stare forever, but are never seeing
They crumble, they fall, they still think someone's there
But no one is, know that, that's your paranoia you fear
Some run fast, some run slow
Some stay in the middle, although
They see so many people, how do they compare?
They care so much about what they wear
The clothes, the shoes, the price tag attached
It's a different problem than sitting, or watching your back
These people feel it, all of the others staring
If they do something wrong, others will be glaring
Eyes in the back of their heads, take a misstep, go on, dare
But honestly, would they even care?
Dear invisible audience, please, don't look
The middle's could handle your gaze, you'll read them like a book
Never-ending jealousy, greed, and insecurity
The fact that no one cares is such an obscurity
They want to be noticed, but not looked at
They need attention from invisible people, but simultaneously, not that
Some run fast, some run slow
How do you run, do you even know?
Some run fast, some run slow.
KnightStar My dad is very into 40s and 50s music. Jazz and your average female vocalists then. My dad likes class in a lady, though many of his previous wives were opposite LOLLL. My mom isn't classy either, she's more Latina City girl.
JD2005 Personally, I love Perfect; it's one of my most favourite songs. Speaking of my parents, none of 'em are into mainstream stuff; my mom loves old songs from 70s-80s, but my dad likes mainly 90s-00s songs.
lunamoonlight My mom likes a bunch of genres, from rock to blues to (some) rap to whatever Voltaire is.