This was actually written a ways back when I was in a bit of a mood. I never shared it because I like to keep my content positive, but I'm in a worse mood right now and this feels fitting to match the moment.
A thousand broken eyes stare back
And an echo's the only sound.
Replaced on quick by a silent pool
Where ambitions go to drown.
What was the point of everything
If this is all that can ever be?
Why grant dreams that never will
Because the rich won't care to see?
Lying to so many twinkling eyes
When save for the slightest grace,
All they'll earn are what-could-have-beens
And tears dried on their face?
Why not just tell the harsher truth
That this world's not made for us?
That they'll squeeze out every drop of love
And substitute a cheaper pus?
Be honest now, all that matters
Are the numbers on the sheet.
Tromping down with endless pounds
Our hopes beneath their feet.
