It would be a waste to raise my voice to you,
to shed a tear for you,
to loose sleep for you.
I wish I could pass that burden onto you,
this weight to you,
concern to you.
Alas, I live in my humanity with openness and clarity.
Purge your murky waters clear from me with ecstasy and vanity.
For every incidental man, I sense a crack in sanity;
and earnestly I patch the pain with stories of calamity.
Onto the next, in hope I may escape this banal dramedy.