You line your nose with powder.
Can you see the paranoia as
easily as it is for me to see? You
mistake pain as pleasure and I see
charm as desperation. The appreciation
for kindness only gets you so far before
tragedy washes over our eyes.
If I could I would but I can’t when
you’re placing everyone else last,
not even the kids stand a chance when you’re
looking at bags of false hope
closely enough to drown your dreams.