His friends know the jokester, not the man that's been beaten down so many times he wonders why he even bothers to stand. The same man that questions why he shouldn't just give in, but every time he's knocked down he refuses to stay put. He stands. He stands over and over again, not letting the negativity get to him. He does not cry but his soul weeps like a thousand droplets of mercury, glistening as if to call the attention of someone to help; and yet, no one notices. His friends see him as a scapegoat, the person who is strong enough to be an outlet for their own pain; for the pain others inflict on them for reasons unknown. He let's them, because he cares more for them then he does himself, but anger soon erupted from the depths of his being. Regret. A rare emotion for the man, as he promised himself that he would never be the one to cause discord, and yet there he was doing just that. Confliction. Should he do one thing, or another? Should he wallow and hope someone saves him? No, no one will. He suddenly knows what he must do. Stand. Stand like he has a thousand times before; because if he doesn't, who will?
"When your heart grows weary and your soul weeps for its master. When you fall and feel as if the whole world is against you. When life deals you a joker and a diatribe, I will be there for you to stand along side me. I believe in you, even if you do not believe in yourself.."