It’s clear to see the disarray
like a raccoon wandering during the day
in the wandering fray
its wandering may
lead it astray
that’s the way
wandering days
sunder our stay
every second a blade
cutting into our DNA
we speak to say
words before our grave
that fall on deaf ears
until we only see death here
and look for someone to rest near
after we’ve extinguished our best years
for a disarray distraction
and repeat this action
in coupled factions
to face the disarray
together more brave
drawn by attraction
we call the spayed a *****
no more attention paid
underneath the waves
we need others to wade
so some of us are just here
wandering the disarray sphere
not playing with peers
facing fears
alone
go home
nobody is there
life isn’t fair
and some must resort to stares.