Society's Sculptor

Society's artwork is fading, kind of like watercolors on a thin canvas. The swirl of hues gets me feeling a bit uneasy, but honestly, I totally get what true beauty means. We’re in a place where it's all about the cash. You hurt the bees yet want their honey? It’s puzzling because those little creatures are crucial for creation and maintenance.

I've noticed we often grumble about the hard times yet seldom celebrate the joy of success. The “belly of the beast” knows all about scars—it’s always hungry. And I wonder, why must we tackle violence with more violence? We draw out conflict but hope for peace, demand obedience — but it's tough when half the folks haven't even enjoyed a perfect sunny day. A day that acts like Nature's own blues remedy, weaving poetry right from the earth, offering us pristine mornings where the grass shimmers, critters wander freely, & our air feels fresh.

We don’t shy away from fire; we learn to dance with water's elegance—maybe swim a bit more assertively. No need to just float; you can let yourself sway with the water’s rhythm without fear of harm or gunfire bruising any creature’s skin.

You see, guns loaded and cigarettes in hand are a common scene—angry youths primed by despair. Fathers pass down firearms like heirlooms teaching survival through force; watering bullets with tears and growing hardened souls from these tools. Bullets exchanged for blood—a violent cycle producing shadows that lurk around every corner, appearing only when neglect ceases.

The facade is still alive—but barely holding on—as our world teaches weaponry to carry our tunes...and my tune slowly diminishes. It makes you wonder if neglecting nature could ever lead to flourish?

They cut trees only to erect buildings; launch stores selling what was once wild... Treating our oceans as dumping grounds while concealing truths just beneath waves—hoping these secrets never reemerge. They forge armies labeled by ranks and roles telling soldiers it's all for a paycheck—it’s like modern-day shackles disguised within duties.

By morphing individuals into mere machine-like entities they propagate survival-of-the-fittest mindsets and master quick-fix strategies — like playing a global game of risk where no one wins unless alone at end—a tragic “masterpiece,” a residue of what once was our society claps back at such manipulation.