In your darkest hour
Your truest self is seen
The desperate, the needy
The strong, the lost.

They say there is always
A spark of hope
But a spark can
Always be lost.

The fire can burn
Light a torch to light the way
But you need to blow
On that spark.

The tunnel will have an end
But that speck at the end
Is that spark, blow hard
Light your way through.

Some do not see that spark
It is so far way that
It is invisible. No amount of
Breath will make that spark a fire.

Some pour water on the spark
Some stop the fire before it starts
Some never see the spark
Some don’t see the spark.

Start your own spark
Here is the flint
Here is the steel
Scrape and blow.

Should we colonise? We are the most
Advanced species, we say it with pride
Yet the fact we fail to realise
Is that as a species we fail to provide
Or properly have resources to divide
Like pirates in the tale of child
We conquer so much it is mild
We are numb to the calling of those
Whom have so little of none
We turn up the nose in selfish acts
But we do not hear the calling of
Those with no-one or nothing
Who still act selflessly, don’t forget
Those like homeless Joe; a veteran of four wars
And would still die for those that he
Knows not or know him not
He asks for nothing, his honour intact
While those with none ask for more.

As we pass in the corridor
You say it. I have
Heard it a hundred times before
So now I implore
What the **** do
I keep taking this **** for?

Once I called you a friend
Now all I want to see
Is you labelled a fiend
For the world to see
So now I implore
What the **** do
I keep taking this **** for?

Every night I go home
Work on things you
Will never understand as
You focus on making others miserable
So now I implore
What the **** do
I keep taking this **** for?

I open my drawer at night
See my gun and think
How nice it would be
To end it all
So now I implore
What the **** do
I keep taking this **** for?

There are two of me
There are two of you
Who I am; who I show
They are the same embodiment
Of a different mind.

Your private life,
Who cares
Mentally,
Emotionally,
Physically.

Your public life,
All eyes on me
Reputation increase
There are those that do cease
Don’t ever back down.

Those who do not care
With no thought of coloured hair
Have no intention to profess
They have no contest
Freedom of mind

People who think image is all
Try ever hard to be tall
Yet always the small
Caring about vanity
Not so much sanity

I show happy, healthy, jolly me
Yet inside appear none of the three
Oppression, depression, anxiety,
Stress and suicidal tendency
A façade is a beauty.