Once you know the truth, you're never the same.
That is what an old saying says.
Is it even the truth? I'm not aware
The feeling of knowing it is actually rare.
For some, it's another lie
Which they doesn't want to accept,
I never bother. why?
For some it's just like an entity,
A thing, bought by a green paper.
They call it "Money".
The poor can not see.
What it's like to be? The truth of a rich,
Just like the water in the sea.
And the rich again never wants to know
The truth of a poor,
Hidden in their soul,
In a bright sky,
Just like a dark crow.
A pain with an invisible tear
A silence, they all could hear.
The "Humanity", used to be an emotion,
They divided it into their different nation and religion.
Still people try to manage
A world they've got damage,
Carrying it deep in their heart
A hope, there'll be a new start.