Sensitively Insensitive
May 4th, 2009Waking up after a good night sleep and with the tender nascent cold morning breeze, even before my first cup of coffee I hear people shrieking of pain and misery. Some somewhere have bombed them, some one shot bullets at them some one today had locked them in an air tight container with a promises of a better life ahead, some has burned their homes, killed their parents, their loved ones.
The tender morning breeze, instantly turns heavy, with stench of last night’s bloodshed, and starts mourning over the misery and sufferings of the innocent. And the ocean screams and shouts begging us humans to stop - ” For God’s Sake Stop” .
But we humans are dead - so dead that although we hear all those deafening painful screams we conveniently turn a deaf ear to it all, turn up our iPods drowning to death any traces of feelings, what so ever is left in us and carry on nurturing a growing our selves while we know thousands more will suffer for our inhumanity today - too selfish to care for any of it.
My first cupper is empty now, enough time I have devoted for the day being sensitive, Ill just get dressed up and have a brunch at that fine expensive hotel, will drink the evening away and will dance till late night. I have a busy day ahead I better get going.
This cup of tea was served by: The Voice Of An Art Freak.














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