Member Rara Avis
America the beautiful
(This is a repost.)
The bleakest day, with clouds of gray,
In me I feel a chill.
The winter sky it seems to cry
No sun doth shine, nor will.
Hate's seed is sown, I am alone
I scream and reach for you
You are not there, for they don't care
There anger is so true.
I want to fight, though it's not right,
I only try to hide
No feelings showw-they must not know
I'll keep it all inside.
Just see how virtue repays you, you turn and someone betrays you
Betray him first, and the game's reversed...
-from The Scarlet Pimpernel