I wish I could look at the ocean and see the waves crashing against the shore, but I can't.
Instead I see the plastic polluting our oceans.

I think about sea creatures dying.

And I die a little inside too. 
I wish I could look out of the window on a train and see rolling hills and sheep grazing. 

I can't.  

I only see the cities and the bulldozers and the fast food restaurants.

And I think about the future of this world and inwardly cringe at the sight.  

I wish I could look at the people around me and see only the goods things. 

But I can't.

I can see their flaws and I look them in the eye and it hurts.

I see someone being degraded for how they look and I think it isn't right. 

But I don't say anything.

I don't do anything.

I don't want to notice, but I do.

Where are the days when it was easy to be oblivious? 

Why did this happen?

Where did it all go wrong?

Where did we all go wrong?

I know.

And I wish I could back.

Back to before it started, before I knew.

This world is full of judgements, and none of them are fair. 

There are standards that are impossible to reach, and goals too difficult to obtain.

But we still try, even though we know we won't make it.

Why do we try?

Why do we compare ourselves to others and change ourselves to fit the standard when there isn't supposed to be a standard? 
When we see where our world is heading, why do we stand back and let it happen?

I have all these questions, but no answers. 

I wish I could go back to being a child. 

Children have no responsibilties.

They have no worries.

They don't need to find answers.

They don't care about problems.

They are oblivious to the challenges facing them ahead.

But I am not.

I have responsibilties that I don't want and I have problems that I can't solve.

And I care.

I want to find the answers and I want to conform to the standard.

But it's really hard.

It's difficult.

And I know that no matter how hard I try, problems will go unsolved, standards will keep changing, and I will keep running the race.

But when the race is over, what does it matter?

What will I have gained from this life?

When the race is over, I will find my answers.

My problems will be solved.

My responsibilties will be lifted from my shoulders.

And I will be a child once more.



Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741