I feel sane in a mad world
How I wish to be mad like the others
I want to hide under the covers
And pretend I am free
My logic is chaotic here
Where fear is power and kindness is rare
I have no place in such a place
This is the torment I face
I feel myself become distant
I want no association with this tyrant
I want no ties to dead environments
I want to thrive to not feel guilt for being alive
Because I do
Its either there’s no food
Or there’s no room
But I have both
And so many don’t
Our lives and our meanings
Have become assets of greed
we are no longer the gardeners
we are the weeds