People are strange
They seem deranged
yet can be entirely sane
Can love to hate
and hate to love
A pair of doves are peaceful
yet a couple of crows murder
We claim honesty
Only to hide behind lies
We want to help others
just ourselves first
"Sorry. Its not you its me" is all we say
Claim to be devoid of feelings
despite that statement being void
Told to live
but destined to die
We are two things at a time
the side thats happy and sappy
in other words the exterior
despite being shattered inside , aka, the interior
We want trustworthy company
but can't accept whats inside us
Let alone trust others with it
or want to be entrusted with anothers
Humans are oxymorons
We care more on appearance
yet realize it means nothing
claim to be happy
only to be sad
Truth and lies are the same
say a lie to keep someone safe
find a truth just to hide it away
People are strange
maybe we are deranged and insane
or we can be normal and sane
How are we to know,
when the only beings capable of thought are us?
Author Notes: Reviews are always welcome no matter how critical
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