expression, poetry, writing

a poem for the soul

In life, it feels like the superficial reality of it poisons our system
I never understood what seemed wonderful about lying to yourself.

We act like our problems are minor and that our wounds are properly healed
although in reality, we’re a majority of broken ghosts with beating hearts.
I paid attention for a long time, and for a moment, I was sucked into the game
but the older I got, the more distant I became from the so-called rose lenses.
The one regret that bares with my soul, is the reality that I am a lost girl
and I’m trying to regain the sanity and closure I once had about this world.
You can’t seek answers if they aren’t in front of your eyes; point blank there
perhaps it sounds crazy, but this world is nothing more than a box of lies.

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