this world is but a stone cold place
with stories to tell, thus dreams to chase
with people so inept to the ever-altering fiction that is this world
with faces so altered by the misconstrued views society has brought with such force
so speak if you must
with a slight and soft tone
and leave if you must
but dont yell
for' your screams are an indecent form of dispair
lased with the toxins of suspician
if you must, walk
walk to where the trees bend over the beaten path
as if they feel sympathy for you
because in this place
with its masquerade of happiness
in this place
where the willows weep upon there trunks and reach for you
as you do as you must
just stand silent and ree
among those who join you in this journey