What is it about the world    
that leaves you so conflicted?    
why is your tone    
pale as bone?    
   
Glance at this man    
who suffers the burden    
of the misery you make    
all too real.  
   
Does the world pay for your dreams    
and refunds your nightmares?    
   
Where the source    
of this your sorrow?
 
Is summer too hot,    
winter too cold?    
Perhaps the rain is too wet,
and the heat too warm?

Or    
are you just spineless,    
and not as bold as they say you were?