Can you hear the whispers?
Slowly growing louder
What will I do when this is all gone
Masks hide our true face
Take it off and what do you see?
A face of pain and misery
Art and stories, paint and pen
All considered a waste of time
Money makes the world go round
Rules constrain us, keep us in line
No room for a rebellious child.
Save your breath for the next guy
I'm already gone
My words are my weapons, the stars are my guide
And maybe one day
I'll find home.
