Untitled

And then there are those days
The days were you put your work mask on
Just to interact with your friends.
Unwilling to admit what is under the skin
Or that you feel nothing.
Just the black hole of emptiness

But the best poetry is born on emotions like these
Prose given birth in uncomfortably
Because sappy love songs
And up beat tunes
With iambic pentameter
Just don't speak to us any more.

There are philosophical differences between us.
Filling this need use to be easy for me,
Maybe I over think the little things;
Or maybe caught in a lie
I decided to force the truth.