At this point in my life I’m fairly certain I’ve told more falsehoods than truths And most of them to my gullible self
I’m trying to remedy that In the hope of hating myself just a little bit less (Wait that’s not true) In the hope of being forgiven if I’m found out Which, I guess Is why I’m writing this dumb poem (Wait that’s not quite true; I think this poem — and I Are rather clever)
A hint is given from golden *** Of what you're destined to become Failed dreams of youth laid before you bare Reflecting now you do not care Nectars grasp encases you Enraptured in your thick cocoon Clawed by music's residue You gasp for golden ***
The time we spend indoors can be unhealthy. Escapism is a part of everyday life for the majority of people and in the current climate, turning to drink as a means of escape and generating short term pleasure seems to be on the rise in the UK. Along that vein, drinking in isolation can be self-propogating and the habit itself can be hard to shake especially when considering cognitive effects that alcohol can have.
Lonely I's and lonely U's With experiences of yea me too's. Become sleepless 1's and sleepless 2's. When picked up on dropping Q's With self-deception we do dare choose. To say outloud " yea we 2's." Forever one we hope is true. Always divided me and you .
You would you rather be blind and in love or sightful and lonely?