Here am I sitting on a bench.
Pondering, Wondering, Thinking and Dreaming.
What would the world think,
If my life was not all it is seeming?

Would they understand my compulsiveness?
Woudl they comprehend my pain?
Could they possibly know
That I walk along in shame?

I am not complaining.
I love my life and my dreams.
I am not always hurting.
I usually jump for joy and sing.

But today I am sitting on a bench.
Pondering, Wondering, Thinking and Dreaming.
I think of all the people,
Who don't get to jump and sing.

Right now there is someone out there,
Cold and alone.
And people walk on by, uncaring
Hard as stone.

What about other people?
Other people in need?
Those people deserve happiness too.
Why do people bathe in their greed?

The world is pathetic.
Heartless, despicable, selfish indeed.
The inhabitants of this world care for no one,
It is the misfortune of others in which they feed.

For they are superior,
Delicate and supreme.
To dirty their hands with poverty
Is the utmost bitter scheme.

So this I say to the world.
As I'm perched on this wooden chair.
Be good to those aroudn you,
Otherwise, life will n ot be something you can bear.