Gray

I am the silver lining of gathering storm clouds, in the eye of a hurricane.
When things go wrong, don`t point your finger toward me, I`m not to blame.
Not evil, nor good, I`m the individual in between.
The fool speaks, the wise man listens.
That is why I am silent.
Those who have crossed my path, might think of me as a little insane.
I think of you as mediocre, inferior, and vain.
My cold, bleak outer barrier is a shield to hide my misunderstood interior.
Ask for my opinion, and I will say what you don`t want to hear.
Truth is what mankind truly fears.
Don`t expect me to care, when I say what your heart denies, I speak it clear!
My existence now may be dull, bleak, and hollow.
But I wake up each, and every day for a vision of tomorrow.
A tomorrow where I am heard.
A tomorrow when the tables are turned.
So then the wise man speaks, and the fool listens.