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Description
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Sitting here, thinking about the past three days. Mulling over circumstance, fate, and the world in general. Wondering to myself what exactly it is that I did wrong. Wondering to myself where exactly the world went wrong. I hear the police sirens blaring, as another group of selfless defenders of the peace head towards the warzone. Racing to protect those who are so evil, they're willing to destroy such beautiful things.

I feel weak. I'm so physically tired, but it's not that. I'm a spent force, emotionally. I've had my ideas and my dreams destroyed by people I don't even know. I've had my heart broken time and time again by the woman I love. And she doesn't even give a damn that I do love her. I look at the blank canvas that started when we all did, that's been scribbled on by the beginners, and then from there an amazing artwork has been created by the forefathers. And from there, parts of this beautiful creation have been ripped off, and others have been burned. By those who don't deserve the privelege of altering the artwork of 'It All'.

The dreams of our forefathers, who hoped that one day we would live in peace and harmony, come crashing down. A child cries next door, after he finds out that his father's been injured on his way home. He wonders why his Daddy is hurting, all because of who he is and what he believes in. An elderly lady crosses the street, holding her handbag extra tight, and even though she's at that stage in her life where she should be enjoying this world of ours, she'll fear them until the day she dies.

The weak and narrow-minded join in the war, against the History that so many have fought to create... They break the bones of their rivals, the lives of innocents, and they break the hearts and lives of people like me apart... There are people who have a dream that one day, we'll all just realise that we are all brothers and sisters... The dream fades, just as a dream always does - when we wake up and realise we live in the real world. Where people aren't there for each other, and most times aren't even there for themselves.

The sickness spreads, as does the anger, and the hatred. The peace slowly dies, and the memories of grandeur are lost. And at this point you need to ask yourself the question - "What exactly am I going to do?" ... Because, when I ask myself this question, I truly don't know the answer... I feel physically ill, because of the state of it all. And I naively wonder why this is so.

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Description
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Sitting here, thinking about the past three days. Mulling over circumstance, fate, and the world in general. Wondering to myself what exactly it is that I did wrong. Wondering to myself where exactly the world went wrong. I hear the police sirens blaring, as another group of selfless defenders of the peace head towards the warzone. Racing to protect those who are so evil, they're willing to destroy such beautiful things.

I feel weak. I'm so physically tired, but it's not that. I'm a spent force, emotionally. I've had my ideas and my dreams destroyed by people I don't even know. I've had my heart broken time and time again by the woman I love. And she doesn't even give a damn that I do love her. I look at the blank canvas that started when we all did, that's been scribbled on by the beginners, and then from there an amazing artwork has been created by the forefathers. And from there, parts of this beautiful creation have been ripped off, and others have been burned. By those who don't deserve the privelege of altering the artwork of 'It All'.

The dreams of our forefathers, who hoped that one day we would live in peace and harmony, come crashing down. A child cries next door, after he finds out that his father's been injured on his way home. He wonders why his Daddy is hurting, all because of who he is and what he believes in. An elderly lady crosses the street, holding her handbag extra tight, and even though she's at that stage in her life where she should be enjoying this world of ours, she'll fear them until the day she dies.

The weak and narrow-minded join in the war, against the History that so many have fought to create... They break the bones of their rivals, the lives of innocents, and they break the hearts and lives of people like me apart... There are people who have a dream that one day, we'll all just realise that we are all brothers and sisters... The dream fades, just as a dream always does - when we wake up and realise we live in the real world. Where people aren't there for each other, and most times aren't even there for themselves.

The sickness spreads, as does the anger, and the hatred. The peace slowly dies, and the memories of grandeur are lost. And at this point you need to ask yourself the question - "What exactly am I going to do?" ... Because, when I ask myself this question, I truly don't know the answer... I feel physically ill, because of the state of it all. And I naively wonder why this is so.

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