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