Gut level, below it all. 
Out of duty - just here. 
Feeling like a knife's being twisted in the hole of how it is. 
False hope, an inch of pride that died when I left to hide from non stop 
battering of conditioned opinion. 
Rest assured but not assured, all is well, but I think we've dealt 
with the fear for far too long. 
Unborn suffer the norm. 
Born to this - I thin not! 
I stand against till the shit drops. 
We see all but do nothing, in the hole of "How it is".