Convictions
It seems to be so odd to me
The way we accept these casualties
They fall before our very eyes
And somehow we just walk on by
We avert our stares, we turn our heads
Oblivious that we stand on a ledge
Unaware of our own mortality
Seeking to mesh with normality
Lost and wayward, pretending to know
Exactly where we're trying to go
Inappropriate, incognito, in denial
Those who are judged are placed on trial
Without even knowing the crime
In daily life we serve our time
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