What We Know

               What We Know fake+news stories
  •   1 comment

mysticmanaged Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   9 months ago
This is a poem that I created in around five minutes out of an idea that spawned from two news channels in my area saying two different plots of the same story. I mixed it with some other happenings that occur throughout news. The bears are interesting symbolism, maybe you guys will grasp what I am saying. Have a good one.

What We Know

We look into books as kids to find things we know. Names, numbers, times of the day, colors and animals.

We trace, we turn our paper, and we go outside to play, usually not a care in the world until the end of the day.

For some people it is different, they don't learn ABC's. They can't really go to school because of things that others don't see. They may trace but not on paper, and they go outside to play, unless the neighborhood bears are out and their parent says stay away.

The bears may be cunning and take all of their dough, they come in one, two, three, or fours, sometimes federally more.

They could wake up one day and their world is gone ablaze, others see it on the news, the clip-on mics speak haze.

As the days go by, and the kids that traced have grown, they see inside a different light with many things unknown. The tunnel they walked down might be expanded at the end, they realize there is more to life than nominated friends.

Some of them did not get the chance to have that path. It was, in fact, crunched and closed even more than that. The tunnel will get smaller and focus on the sight that their parental mentors see, whom won't turn off their light.

The grownup is a grownup, things around them glow, breaking news and intro tunes stating facts of faux. Behind the flashing lights are those blinded without care, seemingly familiar to that one child chased by bears.

They are grown up too you know, but grew a different way: they were tossed and turned just like the paper we used to trace. Put in the back of the line, told they were wasting time, made it to opportunity that showed them a worse life.

The closed will be closed, but maybe hearts unlock, to open their ideas, tell their arms to break the rock. The wrecking ball of yearn gets swung, fueled by frustrated minds, looking out onto the world they were kept from while confined.

The tunnel can be opened, connected palm to palm is two halves of perfect strangers that trace outside the lines too.

The knowledge of the people versus knowledge real and faux, with this day and intellect: Do we even know what we know?

I think learning from some first-hand sources can really help us so.

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