when you look down

an airplane is flying through the shallow clouds as i write

when you are in a airplane, and look down, all you see are lines, grids, dots

we miss what is actually happening down there. you dont see the lives. the happiness, the sadness, the longing and disappointments, and you cant see the fears 






all you see are lines 
but people are more than a bunch of lines 

up in the air, you miss the lies being told

the hearts being broken

the tears running down his face

the child skipping through the sprinklers

the tears running down her face

the soup being slurped

the drilling of the dentist

the sunday night conversations

the boy never to return home, taken

the songs being sung around a fire

and the fights

and the girl alone in a crowd 

and the arguments over nothing

and the fears of a mom for her lost child

fears.

we fear the inevitable, and the unknown. but its deeper than that, we fear the restless dark nights when we cant fall asleep

the jeans we pull over our legs

and the way our legs look in them

and the yelling

our teachers

and if we are smart enough for it

and if our hair is greasy

and if we will live a successful life

 if we will get married

and our faces that have ten zits

or if our fathers will ever come home tonight

and how i will die

and when i will die

or worse, when you die

or even worse, when you leave me

or if our lives are just a puzzle, with missing pieces, impossible to fit together

 i dont know if it ever will now

as much as i try to block these voices out, they always come back.