The world scares me.
I'm not half as frightened of the phantoms that people see.
I'm not afraid of the drugs and bombs and natural disasters.
I fear not the great heights, nor moths that fly in your face,
or diseases that could kill me this next very minute.
At least not as much as I fear you.
The very people that surround me.
A sea of faces all mocking and angry,
and sad and false-led.
A forest of hands all grabbing with greed,
all consuming with hunger, all stabbing with violence.
A volley of mouths, ever closing with the awful truths,
fabrications that cause the heart ceaseless unrest,
biting of swearwords and lies.