Out In The World Poem by Peter Black

Out In The World



As a kid I searched the sky for lost gods;
Drew marks on my arms for the demons to cut,
Wishing that I had a different face,
Changing my fate living in a different place:
I played make believe in digital worlds.
I was a hero, my sword dealt good.

Out in the world where people breath
I hide under the loud human machine.

I called for a teacher
A master to show
Me the way through the dangerous shrines,
Past monsters whose teeth hungered for gold,
Who locked themselves in boxes and worked,
Clicking keys, they made numbers move
And played with papers until time set them lose.

I wanted a guide, but I was alone,
Out in the world where you are what you own.

I became like a specter, an unseen sheen
That hid in corners where my light's dim glow,
No human being ever noticed or provoked;
How I longed for friendship
A kiss and soft touch,
To say I was wanted and knew what love was.

Out in the world where good things die,
I stayed in shadows pretending I was blind.

As an adult I let out my light,
Only to see it wash on the road,
Beneath tires and the machine's electric snow.

I became the darkness,
The shadow is me:
A human soul never considered or in need.
And there are hundreds of us,
Living beneath the roads,
Walking in mass, a moaning horde,
Hoping for something: to be set free,
When the sun opens up and explodes in release,
A ray of fire that burns up the mist,
Throws down the buildings, cuts all the chords;
When the upper world is bit to dust and scorched rust;
When we can out out.

Out in the world where nature is god,
Where peace is as free as simple love.

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