I hear emo's singing, the varied carols i hear.
Those of lonliness, each one singing sorrow as it should be announced and heard.
The cutter's singing theirs as they inspect their arm or leg.
The depressed singing theirs as they make ready for bed, or leaves off over-thinking.
The mis-taken singing what belongs to them in their mind, the heart-broken singing on the balcony.
The suicidal singing as they sit on they floor, the crying singing theirs as they scream.
The lullaby song, the emo'r on their way in the light, or at bloodless or at tranquility.
The down-graded singing of the blues, or of the young belligerent at serenity, or of the rejected or wounded.
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else.
The worries what belongs to the insecure at life, the accused of lying.
Singing with open mouths their stong melodious songs.