O. So World Weary?

When you truly believe in these jokes you’re telling
I worry for you
I go to bed and i’m worn until night
The world ain’t this much horror and blue
I think you’ll find it’s only slightly Orwellian in the West.
Your cynical anxiety is the bubonic you look at;
What great understanding can have you yourself so miserable?
You jot realism on your name-tag
loosen your mouths cross-hairs on wonder and dreaming.
Then whistling in faces of people;
We’re tired of that sound
How you’re shallow feeling,
I don’t want to say anything about anything when i’m low.


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