The shrug of the shoulders,
when asked if they have plans,
The group in a group created without your hands.

You brush it off,
create a cloud in your head,
A cloud that is covering what is done,
And what is said

You want to speak up,
but the cloud covers your eyes
It whispers in your ears
Theres nothing wrong,  everythings fine.

Because through unshed tears when  you ask
"what was the joke?"
All those thoughts mean the delusion nearly broke

So you let the thick clouds veil you,
circling you like a roundabout
Becasue in the end its kinder
to give the benefit of the doubt