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A Song By The Hopeless
“I don’t quite know
How to say
How I feel.”
Actually, I do.
World, I have to ask you
A couple questions.
You throw things at me
Left and right,
You send my mind
Into a firestorm of thought.
“Your response?”
This is it.
Why do you keep telling us?
This, and
That, and
This, and
That.
Over and
Over and
Over again.
You have a code
We must live by,
Even though we already do.
How long can you drill it in?
How long can we stand it?
How long can we take it
Before you break your own code?
What do you define it by?
If you’re going to tell us it,
Tell us what it means.
Tell us what it does.
Tell us what you want us
To take out of it.
Obviously,
We cannot think for ourselves.
Why else would you do it?
I am
Hopeless here,
Surrounded by other people,
Hopeless.
We sing our songs of sadness,
But you will never listen.
Why won’t you listen?
What does it take for us to mean something,
If you mean everything?
“I was just thinking,”
But it doesn’t mean a thing.
Nothing does.
Does it?
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I was originally going to call this piece "A Song For The Hopeless," but I think "By" fits a little bit better.