hadres

Saccharine (Note: for the sake of reading this properly and understanding the rhyme, the word hyperbole is correctly pronounced/read hyper-bo-lee, not hyper-bowl) Saccharine hyperbole You waltz like fabrication around me Wax museums, sculpted zeal I'm now aware Nothing seems real I just don't feel it anymore I can't agree with it anymore Maybe it's a lack of serotonin Maybe I'm just growing old Maybe it's me; I know for sure This peace of mind is starting to fold You've parted around me; I guess I'm dispensible Somehow it's not surprising Perhaps, even sensible Since everything leaves me empty inside With nowhere to run