When I wake, I feel the world Infested,
With opinions and thoughts that keep minds contested,
This lonely howl, once rare, is now firmly normal.
This cry for attention.
I do believe souls still have the chance,
To regain the grit of our forefathers stance,
In their ashes, we’ve birthed an insight to weakness.
This cry for attention.
We have developed a trait that I find undesired,
From our ancestors, men of old, we should be more inspired,
The bell has rung many times, yet still we are deafened.
This cry for attention.
How is it, that they gave up their lives?
To strive for tomorrow, that was their prize,
There is steel to be found in this solemn sacrifice.
This cry for attention.
A plague I have spoken of, during the sun’s sweet days,
A shame to be upon those who misuse this phrase,
“I’m offended” are words, laced with unneeded pain.
This cry for attention.
Teller of Some Tales 