Glasshouse by Eli Oko

With Windows and doors

With walls and floors

With a surrounding so pretty and a thousand reasons to never leave

They travel into the crowds amongst the civilians

They pretend to hold everything in the bags they carry

But it’s nothing

Just hopes and dreams and the little things inbetween

From the inside it seems close knit and harmless

But once your out of the equation even the numbers look carelessly placed

I thought I knew the difference between most humans

I thought I could recognise fear

As his tone muffled and the words became green

I listened and heard them all

I have it recorded

Like every nightmare that plays with your eyes closed

This one needs not even a blink

And as they clock in and out

As they envision futures

They take away everyone else’s

It’s not the things I don’t know that keep me awake at night

Like why me?

Or who knew?

But rather the things I do

The letters I did receive

The promises they did put down in writing

How beautiful it must be

to be amongst civilians

Giving and taking hope

I tried to make differences

I thought that I was creating a stronger workforce for the battle of life

I never saw my self on the field

I never saw myself fighting

I always thought of myself as the first aid rushing to help

But they,

They had other plans

And with their bags of nothing they continue to be ‘not here’,

To avoid messages and dictate even the experienced of minds

No doubt,

I wish they’d have never left their glasshouse

And that my crowded roads never intertwined with theirs.