Perception

Weeping may not help, strength will

The intensity of my cacophony is rarely a thrill.

Action stops, time drifts by

Not caring, not mourning for the ones who die.

If time is money, then is life a bank account?

One which keeps no record of faces, 

But notes are ready on the count.

Questions flutter around my mind,

 Maybe there is one way out.

However, this world is not very kind,

This thought haunts me without a doubt. 

-