The language unites; divides
the world into shaded lights.
Each nation under same roof
obtains resources from different providers.
Each window painted with blight
and doors locked in fear of privacy.
We see the pain but keep the windows shut;
knock for help but doors remain locked.
We don’t understand each other.
We look for secret passageways into the rooms
like we are treading through medieval
stone steps into the bedrooms of affairs.
Our hearts are open, but keys
are turned to hide us from the world.
We fear to be exposed, seen raw or naked
or worse, in our worn stained pyjamas in the comfort
of our bedroom. We fear to be alone.
The world does not understand. We share
the same doors. I hear your cries and screams –
I take out my key, but yours is still there
turned to lock the world away.
Aldas Kruminis is a writer from Dublin, Ireland. He has spent the last few years dreaming of a successful and prolific career as a writer; so he earned a Masters in Creative Writing from Loughborough University. His work has been published in Terrene, Idle Ink and more. More at: https://aldaskruminis.wordpress.com/
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