We wander, aimlessly.
Speak with people
We hope are listening.
Arrive at a place
Where we almost seem
To have it together
But the truth says never.
We suffer in a garden
When what is known
Can't be accepted
And we struggle with the Truth
That can't be neglected.
So we offer ourselves up
Knowing what will come.
And, this is the insanity,
We console those
Who will be hurt
By our decision...
We suffer, silently
We rage, openly
We die to this decision
