Anger rises, an outlet sought
A kind of peace not easy bought
It never used to be like this
The signs of cracks and things amiss
Can send us down the dark hallways
That lead to melancholy days.

Of pain and heartache on both sides
Who ever thought there were free rides?
We have to stand and keep our nerve
And fight for principles we serve
Of honour, love and dignity
And once again, our hearts set free.

Sacrifices must be made
A bright future, a good fair trade.

©Joe Wilson – A depressive state – but not as we know it…2015