I just go on and on and on,
beating my head against the same old wall,
thinking I must get through,
there must be something on the other side,
something better than this side.
At last I've broken through,
and as I poke my battered head
through the hole I've finally made
in the cold, dark reality of the wall,
what do I see? A new beginning?
A second chance? A better way of life?
I see nothing but the cold, dark reality
of the other side of the wall and some poor fool,
beating his head against the same old wall,
thinking he must get through,
there must be something on the other side,
something better than this side.
There are things we should be born knowing,
and some we should never find out.
Perhaps I'll try again, a little to the left this time.

By Edwin Chauvin III