THIS IS SMOKE

When I look at the abuse of skills 
The misuse of the gift of arts
And the image behind the acts
My eyes become an overflowing body of water
The many souls that are lost
The many hearts that are broken
The many families that are separated
And the many communities disjointed by the acts and arts
We downgrade the image
And abuse the gifts
Just to earn the numbers
And some pieces of papers or golden images
Trading the beauty of God for shame
Yet there are supposedly more well-mannered children than the prodigals
But the well-mannered children are silent
Burying their talents in the earth
Storing their talents to be used in their graves
While the prodigals are investing their talents
And yielding increasingly corrupt fruits

THIS IS SMOKE.