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.