The mistrustful

He said I said she said we said they said you said everyone said no one said

perhaps the world spoke

perhaps nothing changed

perhaps everything and everyone flipped over their head

maybe I was born one time and the born again

maybe the window in my room is the door to hell

Or maybe the stars are eyes filled with rage

and maybe Jesus wasn't meant to die in pain

why do children cry at the instance of birth?

why does no one answer when I pray in bed?

maybe I have died and then died again

maybe the wind and the trees whisper my name...

Maybe

Or maybe nothing happens and it's all in my head.

The world that surrounds me keeps going ahead,

Be I willing or not to that accept,

Willing or not to move on or to stay,

Willing or not to live or be dead.