Problem. Such a simple word,
for something so complicated. Everyone
has problems, some more than others, and I
am no exception. My friends
have problems, from bruises
to unwanted life. They think noone sees that they cry,
but I do.
They think noone sees that they’re dieing
But I do.
I see, and try to act. I try
To do something, but only God
Knows if I’ll be succesful. Its difficult,
Solving problems that aren’t mine, with so many
Belonging to me piling up.
I’m ignored, mistreated, abused.
And noone seems to care. But I know,
Deep down they have their own
Unique problems, and I can’t help but wonder-
What are they? What must they deal with, what
Are they experiencing?
Problem. Such a simple word,
For something so complicated. Every problem
Gets solved, sooner or later.
I always was good at maths.

The End

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