The few kind souls that reside

Are those whom are thrown aside

Grouped and slaughtered by the masses

And hope that one day it all passes

But they live in their past

They live in those instants

A time in which they relapse

For, to them things make sense

To some I may seem sane

Yet I never feel as though

With the idea that my pain

Is more common than I know

I choose to aid

All those who share

All the debts they’ve paid

I choose to care

I wish for a career

Not one for fee

One that involves patient ears

And involvement of one’s psychology.