The streets are paved with passing ghosts, and heavy clocks that chime, A steady, cruel reminder of the endless march of time. They walk among the breathing crowd, a phantom in the light, Who learns to wear a painted smile to keep the dark from sight. They say they’re fine, they nod their head, they learn to play the part, While sweeping up the shattered, bleeding pieces of their heart. It is a loud and jagged world, and they are lost on earth, A hollow shell that wanders, quietly questioning its worth. Stuck between the earth and sky, with nowhere left to go, The soul is bruised and broken, but the cracks will never show. A silent tear that falls unseen, a desperate, quiet plea, Concealed beneath the crushing weight of who they have to be. It takes a monumental strength to simply stand and breathe, And hide the suffocating, silent war that simmers underneath.
