A Poem Called: Aliens


If aliens are watching,
What do they think?

Do they watch us in appreciation?
Thinking, ‘Wow, what a perfect amalgamation,
Of light and dark, of good and bad’,
Or maybe they’re a tiny bit sad.

For all we know,
They sit there mystified.
Consumed by our love, confused by our hate,
Worried we might make the big mistake.

You know the one I mean,
In that moment where we go too far,
Because someone else is always ‘the other’.

When will there be a time,
For freewill and unity,
That dream of a utopian society?

Is that even what we want,
For everyone to be the same?
Or is the point to simply refrain,
From passing judgement on others,
And lacking mutual understanding.
Instead, it makes more sense,
That we should be showing kindness, empathy and wonder,
Because a little bit of equality,
Doesn’t seem like such a tall order.

Surely they are worried,
Watching us fight for change while staying the same,
That we’re never learning a thing,
While expecting a miracle to fix practically everything.

They must be anxious,
Watching us bicker and moan,
Because if two stubborn forces collide,
It might not be long,
For humans to commit planetary suicide.

To hurt not just ourselves,
But the Earth too;
To repeat history,
With enlightenment for only a select few.

What do the watchers see,
As we navigate through life?
We’re moving blindly as infants,
In the wise and expansive universe,
Trying to make sense of the unknown on our way to a hearse.

Do they look at humans completely bewildered,
By our conflicting nature,
And by the potential that could still be delivered?
But money reigns supreme, and so does power,
The corrupt perpetually gaining more control,
In their ivory tower.

If only we knew,
The answers to life,
Maybe we wouldn’t be so quick,
To accept a mundane existence.
Then again,
We’d probably question it,
Tearing it apart,
And then complaining that we miss it.

Have they given up hope,
Or abandoned the idea of collaboration?
As we wait patiently for confirmation,
Of their existence and a saviour from our own damnation,
Are they wearily waiting for us to take action?
Can we grow beyond ourselves,
Through a little evolution,
Some overdue updating,
And a dash of ascension?

Do they even care?
Do they even exist?
And for that matter,
Do we?

Are we so conceited to think we’re worth the effort?
That in the infinite we are finite.
Maybe meaning is the reason we’re here,
Or maybe we are destined to disappear.

The answer is in you.
You need to make the call.
Are you going to live your life to the fullest,
Trying to be better than those who came before?

At the end of the day,
We all have to remember,
That the beauty in this world,
The magic of our souls,
The marvels of humans and nature,
Are all worth fighting for.

So, if the aliens are watching,
Make them believe,
Because we are fated for more,
Than our humble beginnings.

By Naomi Eleanor @naomieir


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