You can sit and stare at a hundred stars

For a hundred nights in a row

You can stare at the dark, you can stare at the park

And at things you care of no more.

You can stare at trees and dried up leaves

And clouds that make noises from afar

At broken bottles, and inkless pens

And the familiar fresh pain of a very old scar.

You can sit by men and talk to them

And laugh till your eyes have tears

But you musn’t ever really cry with them

Or let them know your fears.

You can sit by a friend, talk from start to end

About stories from too long ago

But when she asks why you wear masks

Your answer must be ‘no’.

So sit and stare for all I care

At nights that come by so slow but go too fast

But no trees or dried up leaves

Can help you make peace that’ll last.

And talk all you want, as much as you want

But you must always know

That no men or random friend

Can ever understand your mixed up soul.