Don’t speak of hope, for I dismay
the very word, I cannot say!
A drug! Addiction! And to what?
A brighter future? You’re a twat!
Dreamers dream, not knowing better
if the time is right, or, whether,
their little ruse, long overdue,
should be called out; they have no clue!
With heavy brow, absorbing thoughts
come bearing down, and yet, not lots
are able to discern the truth
for what’s the mind, not spiteful youth?
From fairy tales, I keep away
my broken mind, they cannot sway.
I once believed, don’t get me wrong,
and not just many, they were throng!