Dear Child

This would have been nicer on your holographic screen but no, I didn’t have the luxury to do that.

The best of these words are buried, dead with me long ago.

I want to tell you how your today came snooping around the corner,

like a piece of color poured upon the sun that shines your path.

It was never like this, I mean the world in which you live in,

should be more horrific than what I saw.

If by now you’re a Christian then you’re a hypocrite,

for they will tell you that your God loves money making houses than the heart

he would have lived in.

If you’re now a Muslim, then I’m sorry you’re a problem everywhere you go,

for any sense of doubt that arises from the fact you have no soul because no one believes you even know Allah.

Don’t be an atheist either, you may not have a say in the society.

Are there any living trees anymore?

It was our source of books for the printing press, that hardly even printed God to us in the dark age.

Did they finally build another sky? Ours deteriorated and poured the sun on our skin,

sometimes it affected our sense of reproducing,

while sometimes, we just died because the afterlife was of a good temperature.

Do you know Tigers, Elephants, Lions are not myths? I saw them live when our grandfather’s ruled us.

I know now you only hear of them but will not breathe even their carcasses.

Did I forget to mention how my name was never in history for doing good?

Well, you may get tired at some point of using rocks to build a Rome

and just join in falling trees to build it, so it’s easier to burn and rebuild because we used to be indecisive, exuberant, spontaneous but in a bad way.

This is the reason for your artificial oxygen.

My child, sometimes I wish I would give you an ear to write me back

but death seems to sweet to live, so don’t ever wake me up and tell me

all of this is true, because then would I believe that we have chosen to be gods of the forgotten age.

 

Yours sincerely  

Grandpa.

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