I say, “I don’t care bout the little things.” But mostly, it’s what I do.

I try hard not to say too much. Because really, not much of it is true.

Damaged from pain, hard living.  So much is rotten to the core.

If I cared about the little things. Then you’d be knocking at my door.

There’s no hope, no silver linings. There’s no possibility for truths.

I was taught by all those scallywags. Changing costumes in phonebooths.

There are lessons in the darkness. There are rules no one adheres.

We don’t care about the little things.  Smile brightly, no speak of fears.