Within the disease of myself, Or of everything around, I steal myself the closest glance Of one who cries When I cannot laugh. I cannot frown, Nor can I smile. For what purpose does it entail When I am drowned by the retail Of different emotions that cannot stand On the rivers of streets, Within the use of deceit? I implore that my emotions Won't drown the curve upon the horizon Into a mere straight line. Of all things confined, Am I at a loss to where I walk? I feel the motions Over the motionless Expressions from too many disasters. I feel the horrid colors That drown the pale away From the dismay So that only the darkness remains. Where I frown, Was once a crown To begin a smile Made to last a while Upon all these roads I do walk At a loss to whom I talk To, within the faces that never truly respond As either friend or foe, As the next step to be overthrown From the throne I've deserted. For these highways, eclipsed by the emptiness Of those smiles that were not meant To crash into painful frowns. Of that man whose disease has isolated his awareness, Does his wife share the pain, Or does he know it?