I wish to speak; I wish to be heard; Maybe it’s time to stop being meek. I don’t want to offend, Those who lend Ears, to give me a chance. Odd it may be I am against racism too But hear me I can’t see how We can write All these awful things Like: We are right. Don’t bristle just yet! I know there’s more to sacrifice; Though we all know It will never suffice; The whole problem with the world Is we all think we are right. It’s no longer about hurting less, But instead proving, One to be better than the rest. Rest assured my friends, This world is absurd, There isn’t a shred of light! You’ll read and maybe argue, ‘Well what of god?’ But what use is a knife, If it is not in my hands? It’s not wrong as there is no right; It’s but being civil, Though we most prefer being, but evil. And so I write; Sometimes two pages a day; Though is it already tomorrow, I am alas! to never know. Shall I now then, laugh? Because crying seems to do no good Shall I say something? But it’s not really going to be understood Or Shall I just live? Because it’s all gone too soon.