Perspective

From the wasteland I stand
little of the world I'd change
because the people would remain the same,
and still I wouldn't understand

Just to survive?
Just to be alive?

I feel as dry as the desert
as if morphine has made me numb
and i have some bland dessert
for I am without rhumb

Watch what these eyes have witnessed
Hear what these ears have engrained
I walk these sands adrift
To wish there to be a rift
Between care and disbelieve.