I've lived in a palace of hatred
Walk through the corridors, aimless
Set friendships a blaze
Mind was a haze
Stayed Ignorant to the page
One Day a glimmer of hope
A Tattooed man, long gone from the pope
Tried to show me his ways
Teaching, critiquing, skills would extend
That glimmer of hope was a pen
An idea that I drew from the poem "The Land of Happy" by Shel Silverstein (1930-1999)