my ramblings about society
the daily routine
i sit i stare i listen i think whispered conversations passing over my head a word snatched here a sentence there i hear my name again i know what that means i get up and leave i wander aimlessly for a while my thoughts further torture in my solitude stupidly, i feel safe to return i enter and they stop what now? i sit and sink back into the solitude
innocent eyes
you're young
that youth i have lost
although i am youg myself
my mind is already poisened
they can't erase that
some say you're niave
i know that's not true
you are more understanding
than most my age
you see the world through your
innocent eyes
yet with a wise mind
those who have the power to create... ...also have the right to destroy
rain
the drum drum of the rain
the drip drip of my tears
which is the echo?
the rain i fear
i have been deeply hurt
by the world and individuals
they took my trust
made a mockery of it
now they are trying to spit it back
the drum drum of the rain
consoled me in my solitude
they ask how i can be lonely
they should try to live my life
they should try to live my life
they corrupted my life
they can't rectify it
peace is near
this is true, they all say so
if it's true - then how
when man doesn't create man
why should he kill him?
but does this mean a father
could break his son?
the world we live in
is a sick one
only we can cure it
what are we leaving for our children?
a world of hatred
a world of prejudice
a world diseased
a world perverted
who will clense our world?
a cople of years ago
you had no idea this would come
but now it has come and as it leaves
you know that you'll lave with it
then again, a couple of years ago
it wasn't so common...
well
those prejudiced leaders
hushed it up
now you're hated for it
it was out of your control
but there's no escape
they talk of cure
what kind of joke is that?
to raise you're hopes in vain
who's laughing?
but now, after all the fights
after they shouted at the marks on your face
those do-good politicians, they said no-one would know
but the marks....
they all know what the marks are
there's no denying it
persecuted for what you have yet to become
as if you're not in enough pain, they multiply
after all this, the simple
rise and fall
of your chest
is an effort
rest now
peace
is
near
s l e e p
s o f t l y
copyright 1999, mandy
take me home...