Looking out my window, I see beautiful weather,
Sunlight kissing rooftops, peace stitched in the sky’s fabric,
The breeze hums freedom,
Trees sway like dancers that still believe in love,
Birds preach sermons in melodies,
And for a second,
the world almost feels healed.
But peace feels like a loan these days,
borrowed time before the next headline,
another name we say too late,
another mother crying into microphones,
another father teaching his son
how not to die for being seen.
See, I see pain in people.
It sits behind smiles,
hides in “I’m good” texts,
camouflaged in TikTok laughs and dance challenges.
We post filters while our souls stay unedited.
We celebrate wins with cracked voices,
pretending like bills ain’t due,
like depression ain’t parked on our chest,
like we don’t scroll for peace and call it peace.
We twerk to drown the hurt,
we flex ‘cause we tired of lack,
we clown ‘cause pain don’t trend long,
but beneath the hashtags,
our hearts still carry the protest.
We been loud for centuries,
yet still not heard until we burn.
I ain’t judging,
I’m just watching the world through this glass
like a poet with receipts for every tear.
We numb our truth in likes,
call it love,
but love don’t algorithm.
Love stands ten toes in the storm
and says, “I see you,”
when the world pretends blind.
We must stand for something,
‘cause silence is a luxury some of us can’t afford.
We must walk together,
even when our feet ache from marching alone.
We must heal out loud,
love out loud,
dream out loud,
‘cause quiet never saved a soul.
So when I look out my window again,
I pray this peace ain’t temporary.
That the sun still kisses us all equal,
that we learn to share this light,
and that our children inherit skies
not stained by the same smoke
we still breathing.
Until then,
I’ll keep writing truth in lowercase hope,
loving in uppercase courage,
and believing,
that one day,
this view won’t just look peaceful.
It’ll be
