We Didn't know the rage of Youth;
We didn't see the signs;
We didn't look to spy the truth,
Or read between the lines.
We didn't think to feel the threat;
The story of pain and pride;
The masked, misguided silhouette
That crept, corrupt inside.
We didn't hear the things we should;
the coming, closing call.
But then to wonder what we could,
or should we see at all?