He can control his actions
but he can't control his dreams
He realizes the situation
And fights to hold back the screams

He wants to punch his walls
Kick down all he sees
Keep fighting until they all fall
This is his only purity

He decides to leave, depressed and grim
Slam the door and go, not knowing where or why
But these thoughts forever haunt him
As if to mock him, the darkened sky begins to cry

Running past as the rain pours quickly
There lies a bum, living in a ditch
He think to myself as he watches him painfully
Life can be such a bitch

But the bum's eyes are gleaming, his smile is wide
How can this man possibly be content?
Looking closely at his possessions:
Newspapers, rags, and a newly found cent

It shines blissfully in his grimy hands
Can this be the source of his glee?
Surely his mind is left in strands
He's off the edge, obviously crazy

By assuming they can't find joy or reason to live
The boy learned something from this homeless
He learned that emotions are all relative
True happiness can be found in the smallest bless

In perspective, that penny was sent from God
A gift that was truly appreciated
Everyone needs a similar facade
Because emotions can't be forced and created