Troubles are everywhere

In the dark alley that you've avoided,

There's some crack addict suffered of loss. 

In a room of my neighbour next door.

There are cries that couldn't pass through the wall.

On the street that we've walked.

There are people that haven't recovered from shock.

As soon as they realised that they've no one to talk 

Those silent sorrows grow into remorse

or a silent contempt

or maybe worse

some irreparable madness.

The complexity of those untouchable thoughts

freezes their apprehension

and drives them into chaos 

So maybe the craziness

and the weirdness

that you 'd normally walk off

are men in a living corspe.

Author's Note

feel free to say anything about it.