Some...

Who knows what people think,
Why some are nice while others stink,
Why they laugh, why they cry,
Why they smile and why they lie.
Do you know why some do both at the same time?
Why some illuminate lives while others are mere grime?

Why do some never accept the truth,
Tis hard, but that’s life, forsooth.
Why do some paint grey in others’ lives,
Use their daggers, stab deep with knives.
Keep your grey to yourself alone,
Someday about you all will be known.

They say what goes around comes around,
What was alive once, has to go deep underground.
They live in the hope that this is true,
They live with hope; it takes away the blue.
Hope can mislead, can lead to disappointment,
Will you risk hoping and wait for contentment?

Some brush it off – “C’est la vie,
People are mad, leave them be”.
They move on, forget the past,
It’s over, they don’t let the pain last.
They go home, eat, work and sleep well,
Above the grey people do their souls dwell.

Some lose bits of their colour, soul and spirit,
They weep inside trying not to let others know it.
Ouside it’s “C’est la vie, unaffected is me”,
Inside the hurt and rage twists; others cannot see.
Forgive not, forget-it-not, secret pain is the worst,
With steel exteriors, tender interiors, such people are cursed.

So which one are you, or which one do you want to be.
Who will you let inside, how many people will really see?

Love comes with its own terms and conditions,
Lovers lie, proclaim love, have a private list of sins.
Friends judge, want what you have; they also lie.
Sometimes you’ll wish they would all just die.
People, they come and they go, but you go on forever.
Malaise may remain.. but never become one of the grey. Never.