You can sit and stare at a hundred stars
For a hundred nights in a row
You can stare at the dark, you can stare at the park
And at things you care of no more.
You can stare at trees and dried up leaves
And clouds that make noises from afar
At broken bottles, and inkless pens
And the familiar fresh pain of a very old scar.
You can sit by men and talk to them
And laugh till your eyes have tears
But you musn’t ever really cry with them
Or let them know your fears.
You can sit by a friend, talk from start to end
About stories from too long ago
But when she asks why you wear masks
Your answer must be ‘no’.
So sit and stare for all I care
At nights that come by so slow but go too fast
But no trees or dried up leaves
Can help you make peace that’ll last.
And talk all you want, as much as you want
But you must always know
That no men or random friend
Can ever understand your mixed up soul.