TOO MANY SAD PEOPLE
I've wept for many tortured souls,But sorrow runs too deep.
I've tossed and turned and dreamt of fools
In countless bouts of sleep.
How many times has ignorance
Been stated that of bliss?
When lack of truth breeds weaknesses;
Strength of mind's not made from this.
For every waking moment
I am thankful in my life,
For the choice to either be content
Or fill my realm with strife.
I pity all the masses
For whom the problem delves.
If only they could realize
That it's brought upon themselves.
While clinging to a harrowed world,
True joy they'll never find.
What a shame they'll never truly know;
Existence is a state of mind.
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