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.