Who Is They?

Who is it that I’m writing for? What is it exactly that I expect? Am I focused too much on the diluted morals of the world? Why is it that I care? Where do the questions come from? Are they something that I fabricate? Were the fabrications instant, or have I unknowingly been at work for a while? What is doubt? Is it hesitation, or in this instance disbelief? Why is it that we walk blinded- feeling passionate in our emotions, yet torn in our spirit? When will the evidence be clear to all mankind? I want to visibly, unmistakably recognize the difference that I have made. Have I made one or any at all? Is it narcissistic? Is it proud? Have I masked my heart with a self-centered smile? Have I confused the innocent on-lookers? Inhale. Exhale. The attestation will be. All in due time, they will know. They will know. Who is they?