We live in everyday
Where beauty is a must
To garner respect
And kindness is all but non-existent
And character is expected to be genuinely fake
Where one must subtly give less than they take
Where all is fair if you're not caught
And the bad ones are good
And the good ones are not
And the people live in fear
Yet they aren't aware
Where the children dream of bells
Trudge to the next class
Until someone rebels
Fire, smoke, then ash
And we live here daily
And we search to be happy
Yet how can we be
If this wasteland is our home?
Happiness is a state of mind
That the mind itself rarely recognizes
And so we'll search for what we've already got
And find it we will?
No, find it we'll not.