Folding The Pages

In the city the commute is a silent train

full of tired workers. Blank stares,

discomfort, and caffeine keep them

awake. And it seems so sad to me.

But it's honorable still. And I wish

them peace at this pace. It will never

change. And I think I'm finally over it.

These words fall on deaf ears.

Everybody's hell looks different.

It changes shape but it never goes away.

In the suburbs kids are getting high today,

out of boredom. Their parents moved here

to feel safe, but they don't match the scenery.

Fences work both ways. They keep some out,

and they keep some in. It's another day

at this pace. It will never change.

And I think I'm finally over it.

These words fall on deaf ears.

Everybody's hell looks different.

It changes shape, but it never goes away.

In a classroom there's a child with thoughts

of death on his mind.

In a hospital there's an old man looking

back on his life. And I wonder why some

people see the beauty, while others see

the pain. Entertainment, politics, consumers,

cops, religious tricks...

Ugly, sad, or beautiful. Sometimes

it feels so trivial.

We need some time. We need some space.

We need some help for us to understand.