I feel the motions of the dead all around me.
Talking to me, telling me what they have seen,
and where all they have been.
The wrong that was said,
the cruelty that they met.

Of the world growing better above the sheets,
and the rotting plotting that happens beneath.
The thickness of the makeup that loads the faces,
and all the wrong that happens at other places.

All this information made my heart bleed,
Felt like doing something for someone in need.
But people in need turn greedy over time,
they beg and plead like an artist performing mime.
With faint makeup of a bullet hole,
when what they really have is a tainted soul.

This realisation left a bump,
on my soft heart and my throat in a lump.
With eyes wide i now pray everyday,
oh god please make this world better in someway.