The Result of Curiosity
I am infatuated with curiosity,
like when Pandora opened the box.
I want to know everything,
whether it's above or beyond.
I need to know something,
whether it's morbid or wrong.
I feel like a song,
spoken and sung in beautiful caws.
I want to see what the world has to offer,
penny or dimes or a bundle of books.
I want to feel like I'm dancing on clouds,
unafraid and unworried of thunderclouds.
I feel the warmth of the sun,
glowing against my sun-kissed skin.
I see the trees dancing to the wind
and the people laughing and howling.
I want to join the fun,
however, I'm too stunned.
I know what the world offers,
more than a penny or dimes or a buddle of books.
Vast amount of knowledge hidden in Mother Earth.
No one told me the fate of love,
torn and hatred tearing it apart.
Darker than caves,
and not more brighter than small glimpses of light rays.
It's despicable the word of love,
shown to be magical in books and fairytales.
What a lie it must be to children who believe in its schemes.
I am infatuated with curiosity,
more than a mystery box.
I already know everything,
all above and beyond.
I already know something,
so morbid and wrong.
I feel so lost,
knowing the love I lost.
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