Masses numb walked below.
And truth that night, was lying low

I saw him hanging by the city gate,
The judges had decided his fate.

He had paid the price,
to have let us hear his voice.

They then got out the body bag
and set fire to his filthy rag.

Never again will a voice be raised.
What for? seems to ask the silent grave.

A little of everything

Our lives are a elemental mix of a lot of things. Angst, glee, emptiness, indifference, joy, obsessions... all of them come home to roost. And yet, we are so much more than just the net impact of all these things. We are a little of everything. We survive, crave, fend off, lean in, avoid, embrace. Some of us dance with wolves, some have gotten bored, some have just started off on what they have always wanted. But, all of us are living a little of everything.