Machines creating wonderful things
We look at this piece of meat
like a bunch of iron hinges, wood and wheels.
We don’t see a body.
Instead, we see a machine.
We misuse it
letting our blood run free.
We perceive them as waste.
We even feel ashamed.
As if they were a sign of our character weakening.
Why do we so often forget
they are proof we are alive and breathing?
Only when the body hurts
we finally understand
that it is a part of us,
the reflection of our minds.
But then it’s full of scars
imperceptible to the human eye.
Bleeding wounds. Invisible ones.
They are painful and chronical.
Some are infected and smell bad.
And still, we think
we can be repaired
like a machine.
We take oils, drugs or medicines;
hoping that magically
it, all, will heal.
And here we are, continuing
because we keep forgetting
we are human beings.
Yes, indeed, we can create
but we first need to dream
and that we can only do when we are asleep.
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