Misanthropic Days

A party of forlorn scars

And lust roams in the air

Illusions caress reality

In the cauldron of the empty words & stares

You lick your lips to feel

The sadness inside all of us

The clear response, we're at the end

It's time to go, the bottle is drunk

Be quick & take a handful of what remained

You deserve less than you're asking for

Between the new walls of joy & hate