When The Rain Falls | Melancholy

There was a time when I thought I could change the world. I believed in things, and was prepared to tell the world about it. I still believe deeply in things, and I still want to tell the world, but I know that I will not. Why? Because I know that no matter what I say, no matter what I do, I can not change the world, I cannot affect people. I have tried. I have not said/done little, and then given up. God help me, I have tried. I have spoken up against injustice, to have my face spat in. I have petitioned against what I have felt to be wrong, to be laughed down as a silly child, or a 'hippy'. I have comforted, conjoled, aided, attended, nursed, and nurtured. I have helped those in need, I have done my bit. I do not what recognition for this, that is not why I do it. What I want is to change the world. I dont know how, I dont know when, but I will, I know I will, I can not give up hope. If I give up, how can I count on other people to see it through? I must do my bit. And who knows, perhaps one day, I will change the world for the better. Perhaps one day.

That was familiar. It feels bad to be forced to turn hard, but otherwise one will be used, and I don't want to be used anymore.