Profess

The most promising lie Is the one you see every morning The most empty of hearts Belongs to the one who steals yours How do you know, That colors are everything they appear to be? What if everything we see, Really is just a different shade of grey? There’s an ache inside each of us One for which there is no medication There’s a moment of every day One in which we all no longer want to go on What can we believe, If even hope becomes a dying myth? Why should we smile, If the inspiring moment merely interrupts reality? We spend our lives fighting for a purpose While we all have a place to be buried We say things to inspire motion While we’re staring at a wall Where can you find home, If your heart is dead and gone? When does the punch line kick in, With the epiphany that losing everything can be too much to handle?