Changing tires, changing moods
What is life itself?
Is it your life?
Is it mine?
Is it amorphous or absolute?
Ephemeral, eternal or just a passing blight?
I can’t tell any of us have it in common since my life has been handled as not a life at all.
And when that happens, even fewer hear your call.
So if you survive this, you can’t accept it, the fact that your life can be so casually derailed by such evil.
It takes all faith from the world, all hope from the heart. No one cares, that’s apparent. It’s just passing showers of attacks and jibes. The joy barely resonates, after so many attacks, you just hide inside.