
For all the lessons we were taught
After all the wars that gave us naught
And all the hateful tracks of mind
Our feet thoses warriors bones we grind
While all the while somewhere inside
Thoses small minded bastards we all still abide
For what can any of us do
If we are but one or even two
What could those efforts ever bring
Our voices quiet whilst we sing
That is the most sad and hopeless poem I have ever read. Its enough to drive hope from a fragile heart and mind, but not mine. I truly wish you don't feel this way. To make a difference, you have to believe that one person constitutes an army, that anyone and everyone can and does make a difference.