I wait for peace, but it does not come.
I throw myself into old enjoyments,
searching for happiness, but finding none
I am desperate, not a wise guy
so I’m never comprehending why
ever turning a blind eye to the truth
a truth delivered directly to my hands
and firmly ignored, as I close and lock
freedom’s door, I choose confusion
did I choose my slavery?
and now I wonder how the children cry
why me?
The Halfwit Writer 