When a rose dies,
People weep
As the colorful petals
Turn brown and brittle
And fall to the ground.
But when a person
Sickens in the trenches,
Withering away
Until nothing is left,
People turn a blind eye,
While they let the victim
Fade into oblivion.
When a dove’s
Softened white feathers
Are soaked in blood
People cry.
But when soldiers
Who have been drenched
In a metallic red
For our freedom
Return to the place
They call home,
There is nowhere to go,
A new war to survive,
Abandoned on the streets.
When two towers
That used to symbolize
Unwavering strength
Come crashing down,
People bawl.
But when a city
Is blown to vapor,
Hundreds of thousands
Of innocent lives lost,
People cheer because
It ended a war,
Though it made
Countless ghosts.
So when what we see
As beautiful treasure
Is taken away,
We weep.
We cry.
We bawl.
But when the perfect
Facade does not exist,
We pay no heed
To its disappearance,
Because in this world
A veneer is more valuable
Than any ugly truth.
People that Never Existed 