Sometimes I Cry

Because the world is broken

Other times,

It’s because I am broken

I long for the days gone by
At least, then, I was a little bit free
I had not learned about the prison of the mind
And for all the rest of the world,
They had their last gasps
Of freedom
And joy
As
well.

It’s so hard to differentiate
Between the agony of the soul
And the torturous cries
Of the abusive(abused)world
We live in

One can only hope,
Lament,
And live

Then maybe the tears will abate
And I (We) can laugh
instead.