Some say to be a listener is a privilege granted to only a few special people. People that, in some small way, might be able to do some good in this hell of a world... but, sometimes i wonder if it's all really worth it?

Have you had cold showers of pain? My friend, you've stood in my rain. Deathly feeling of loneliness, No need to feel shameless. I've been there before. Too often, our cries for help are silent ones. Unheard. Unheeded. No one hears us, understands us. We speak in silence. Hoping that someone will see our words, our message.

Faces hide as much as they reveal, but things aren�t always what they seem. Hidden behind carefree masks, we watch and listen.
What is it we are waiting for? Can some one tell me that?