Her hands were folded at the news desk
Readin the words upon the screen
A smiling introduction
Meets the death of a teen
She stops in mid-sentence
Her eyes, they look away
Thinks, whose words am I reading?
Why were they written this way?
A young man, up and coming
Accepts a job for high pay
Speaks eloquently of nothing
Puts his life on display
Prestige it surrounds him
But he can feel something weigh
Thinks, whose dreams am I living?
How did I end up this way?
Mother sips on a cocktail
The sun hot on her face
Lord always smiled down upon her
She’s never struggled a day
But the mansion feels empty
And she’s just an actress in a play
Thinks, Whose tears am I cryin?
Why am I feelin this way?
Big man on campus
Never travels alone
Stumbles upon a young girl
Dressed in men’s clothes
As they call her a faggot
And they take her pride away
He thinks, whose thoughts am I thinking?
Why am I acting this way?
I’m sitting at the crossroads
Of tomorrow and today
Watching kids told not to question
Brilliant minds washed away
I watch their movements turn awkward
As they are molded like clay
Why are we always pretending?
Why are we living this way?