I see the dung heaps piled at least a mile highI see the shards of shattered dreams in the streetI face the morning with my customary sighI hear the sounds of children laughing aloudA stumbling wino has attracted quite a crowdMy breakfast finished now I brave the outsideBut clouds have hidden all the warmth insideChase these clouds awayI hate this sunless SaturdayFreedom comeFor us nowLight our skyBurn away these cloudsPerhaps the charcoal grey and brown around meIs just the mirror image of tainted soulI think the sun will never visit my skyUntil the truth is seen by each and every eyeI see the helpless and I see the insaneI see a pauper singing in the pouring rainI see the means of help elude us againI think the sun will never visit me again
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