Cynicism

Surrender to the cynicism of the mind

A game of peek-a -boo played by memory

Taking us back to a place like a torn kite

Where we fly with the breeze and clouds are thundering

I store my thoughts and seal them in an empty closet

Cannot show you the words that are not spoken

The words are liar and only deeds are honest

Conferring to tides night is a little more darken

The wheels spurn and something new I become

Breaking the conventions of social being

Want to break the solitary confinement of me

Sceptic maybe I am yet I believe

That world would change if I stop with this deceit

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