"The world is a beautiful place," my father says, "We should learn to love it."

I almost want to laugh

but I don't;

I hold back.

I try,

really, I do,

but my eyes flash

and I mutter,

"This world is not worth saving, dad."

My dad, he has this look in his face,

like maybe he wants to cry,

but he doesn't.

He gives me a wan smile

and says, "Sometimes I don't know who you are."

He laughs.

But even though he laughs

I think

it's the saddest sound in the world.

If I could change something,

I would change my world -

the world that lives within me.

To change yourself

is to change the world,

I muse.

And if I change myself,

perhaps I could change my father's world,

my sister's world,

my mother's world,

my dead friend's world.

Perhaps, perhaps,

if I somehow manage to change what I'm becoming,

this bitter

hopeless

enraged

pitiful

human,

maybe then I can know true peace.

We all have this song

in us,

always playing;

sometimes softly

sometimes not,

and if we manage to change our world,

the song can finally bloom into something

beautiful.

Something worth changing for.