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Come si dice…Peace?

I wish I could explain to her
Why there are so many wars, and peace is hard to find
I’m ashamed to say I’m only 21 and I live a better life
Than the majority of the world
Hatred, shame, brutality at the moment rule our earth.
If I tell her peace will return, it would only be wishful of me to think
And I feel like a such a hypocrite
Explaining humanity’s suffering from a distance, out the thick of it
Can I really understand how other people live
Whilst sitting in my house, with running water
And made of brick

come si dice…Peace? – 4/8/2014

Rarely Speak At All – Rumi

Whoever Brought Me Here, Will Have To Take Me Home All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I’ll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home.
This poetry. I never know what I’m going to say.
I don’t plan it.
When I’m outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
– Rumi