they talk, they talk about compassion,
but…
the rain, it comes down,
and the compassion is silent.

and as they speak their congratulations,
i will be on painful public display,
and i will not have a thing,
or even any congratulations to come my way

but clearly, i was one light short
— of a complete room.
i was caught in the morning rush hour,
and lost in the daydreams of my afternoons.

my ambitions, my hopes, my dreams
will not be told,
and all of them, so easily told
and again, i struggle to read a script