•Why, I always thought,
Do we never speak of that little space,
That always finds its way up,
The tears drowning our face?

I know everybody's lonely,
And everybody is lost in pretence,
So what's the point of acting,
When nothing is making sense?

Sometimes I speak to that space,
And I hear it say,
That most humans forget themselves,
Pretending to be okay.

And then I find myself laughing,
Because that silly little voice,
Has no clue about the fact that,
We never have a choice. •
~*~
12:38 a.m.