n everything,Even the purest person looks horrid.The greyness that covers the shadows,Is exploited like a freak in a circus.No matter how much I wish,That those leaves would encircle me,All that I can get is a reflection,That contains a selfish me.The ants that crawl along the sidewalk,Create a certain peace that can not be heard.A straight line that continues every day,Is this what they call a ut