He whom plods subconsciously
In the trees,
He whom has never smiled,
Condemned to saunter forever in
A gray void of misery
She whom has only spoken
About one thousand words,
Will never know the pleasure of
Having a friend
She whom will always walk
Alone, broken,
Battered with memories of
The horrors of her past,
Plagued, haunted,
For eternities to come
They whom don't know
That either one
Exists,
Will never comprehend
The truth, the meaning
Of life
And in return,
Nobody will ever understand
Their pain,
Their poison, parasitic, killing
All happy emotion,
One lethal thought
At a time
But anybody can take a guess
On why these disoriented, vague people
Wander aimlessly all by themselves
Just as anybody can
Prevent the same fate
From happening to them.
