I have gone over in my head many times how I should begin this particular post, and I truly do not know where to begin.
Over time certain poets have likened the human heart to a clock, an inner timing device which keeps time by memories shared.
But one important difference is when a clock breaks it can no longer tick, but a broken heart can still go on beating.
And as the beat of my own heart drums in my ears and merges with the ticking of the clock, I continue to sit in silence.
Isn't it time for the true inheritors of this Earth to claim it back?
The World Is Ours
I care because Africa is mine.
I care about the pollution levels in Athens and the lack of religious freedom in Greece. Greece is mine. I care about the Londoners killed and injured in the Londom bombings. England is mine. I care about rising gun crime in the USA. America is mine.
Turkey is yours. Greece is yours. America is yours. Care about them as you care about your own country.
The world is ours to share.
My father always told me that when we die, we have to be someone. When I asked him how to be someone he told me that the secret was never to lose the power to care about the world we live in.
I hope I never lose that power until my clock stops ticking.