How much pain burns under our skins
When we cannot repent for our sins?
A thousand hyperbolic images could not express
The distress we each to ourselves need to confess
How much hurt pours into the world
When our souls are unfurled?
No self-consistent paradox could help us reconcile
The sadness in our smile
How much grief runs through our dreams
When nothing is as it seems?
The choicest words could not describe
The anguish to which daily we subscribe