The Wrong

I'm the dark one?
I'm the one with the problem?
Lets reveiw this please...

Human feaces crowding halls.
Vomit; colours that shouldn't be seen.
A handjob in plain view;
as they commune.

And this is your society?
This is your humanity?
I am antisocial?
I am in the wrong?

Mindless questions of the ignorant;
them not caring for emotion.
Artist? 0r mindless fool?

Among all this the perfect person:
and individual, a carer,
a lover, a teacher,
a sister, a friend.
This gem; this ruby,
among this filth.

As we seek to wipe the dirt from our eyes, we loose sight of those shining lights, as we stare at the floor trying to keep away we loose track of the shooting stars.

Watching from the sidelines.
Black suit, Black shirt, Black tie.

Black Mask.

Around him, sickening florescent.
Unsure of what they really are;
and yet they don't care?
They mill about their yellow fields,
they loose their way in intoxicating bliss.

In the distance the lylac, the blue,
the feeling of loss
as it slowly passes the horizon,
Magenta.
Black.

Grey clouds not showing through black sky,
and as he crawls up ready to die;
his mind is cast only to all of those,
who dash their brains after falling from his wall.