Hope is a trickster,
Making you float over the sky,
Deliberating about what could be?
Building up blocks like a Jenga game...
Could be shattered by one missing piece,
Now that is the forthcoming reality.
Hope plays blind mind games
And we stab our eyes,
So we can follow our demise ourselves.
Tiptoeing around the word, expectations,
But isn't it all just the same?
Greedy hearts pleading for more,
But plenty is never enough for us,
Praying for more than we can take care of,
Now, tell me don't you see a broken soul when you look in the mirror?
Changing and choosing personalities more frequently,
Than the clothes in our wardrobe,
Heartless, considerate, caring or cold,
Which one precisely suits today's mood?
Attempt to smile by thinking of lies at 3 am,
Our mind is never where our heart resides.
Hey, have you heard,
That the sad songs are the new lullabies?
We stare at the ceiling more than we gaze into the truth's eyes,
We are the generation that is best at acting, we are absolutely fine.
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