He is the inconvenient truth, And always goes unnoticed. I guess it's for the better, I would hate to be ****** into, His heart he hides, Under the vacant smiles.
He is the boy who tells white lies, And balms his good intentions. I want him to tell me so, I hate the fact he doesn't. His mouth just seeps sugar, What he thinks I want to hear.
He is a constant misconception, And prides himself on his demeanour. They think of him as nice, or kind, I hate the fact I see the latter. His delusions of how things should be, Will never cloud my judgement.
For what I hate the most about him, Is that I know who he really is, And it's sad, he wouldn't recognise reflection.