The same photographs are hung on the walls, the same children run through these halls, & the same delirium rules good-mannered intentions. Masks are placed upon each face, a happiness forced to show their teeth, until routine has marked it as the truth.
Secrets still linger behind each locked door.
Each second the clock accounts for is harassment & Jesus has let them down too many times. But here they are, priceless & smiling. Ashamed & caring. & for entertainment, rules remain desolate while morals are mandatory.
Selfishness rules each humble deed. You can hear it their voice; you can see it in the way their hands work. Their grips shows implications of their true self. Ignorance harbors each step.
Expectations are being lowered as the years hasten.
Children fall for their lovers quicker than ever just to have glass hearts broken.
Eyes don't meet for fear of regulations.
Voices stumble for fear of consequences.
We are not ourselves.