Sometimes I wish the world was a different place,
The busy cities,
The calm countries,
It all melts into one,
Like a parcel,
You see the neat wrapping paper,
Untie the rough string,
Only to be disappointed on what's inside.
The worlds like that,
Famine, drought,
You can't rely on it,
Or you'll die.
It's a foggy window waiting to be cleaned,
Secrets, rumours, death and decay,
But yet filled with love and happiness.
The worlds to complicated for us,
So why can't we just ignore the parcel?