Dying Inside. . .

I look at the bare walls and contrast my life The cracks tell a story of disruption and strife The smoothened plaster belies the coldness of cement The rich hues I see all try to placate ruined descent I see whitened parts that stop the dampness entering The gaps I see all make for circulatory venting Alas I fear the torrents come tumbling Yield I say for my self worth is leaving Cold and aloof I pray for my time Promises made all tumble in lies Distrust, hypocrisy all cloud my altruistic vision I knew not then what I know now this instant I feel I am dying inside in this gyre handmade So untrue is this world so unfortunate and fake