where tents line the street where bodies lie on the side of the road like waste in the city dump where the stench is thicker than blood where the air is toxic where couches and chairs are made out of cardboard boxes where sickness and disease run rampant where souls sleep all day and roam all night where the colorable condition is in black and white where life has not a place to shelter when lightening strike it's like the world's a hoarder unable to fix broken life in a pile of case files when it's no bodies job problems will be allowed and cases continue to go unsolved in need of a multitude of solutions meanwhile the multitude wander the wilderness without a savior to lead them out of their affliction we look away from what we cannot look upon often we become what we see safe is an illusion so is free there's nothing great about outdoors there's nothing safe about inside the safest place to go is to sleep terror wakes those who close their eyes in fear to remind us all a peaceful rest is near not too far from here