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)