Lies

Lies
I hear the old swing cracking,
a gentle sound that fills my ears.
Gentle and soft,
the only thing I've heard in about a hundred years.
I look in it's direction,
a little girl meets my eyes.
She's softly swinging above the roses,
the red roses full of lies.
The're always pretending,
saying the're still growing, saying the're still full of life,
always waiting for the ending,
the ending of their long and sad life.
The're liars, but aren't we all?
saying we don't need any help, and that we're fine.
While on the inside, we're miserable.
But we can't tell anyone, that would be crossing the line.
So we keep silent, praying our problems will go away.
Just like that little girl,
who has a fake smile plastered on her face,
she shines like a beauty, like a pearl.
But because of this dark world she lives in,
she doesn't know any of this.
She can't see the light shining through her body, coming from her soul.
she doesn't know she's coming from the bright, beauthiful world I miss.
All she knows is this sad feeling that won't go away,
this dark world full of lies,
and the roses she's swinging above,
the roses that seem alive in her eyes.

Lies. She can only see darkness, and those never ending lies.

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