We chase after shadows, both fleeting and bright,
Yet behind every curtain, the truth hides from sight.
Beneath the veneer of the polished facade,
In boardrooms and alleys, the pattern's the same.
Disillusionment whispers in the halls of the game,
The world's a machine, its gears often grind.
The smiles that we wear are masks over pain,
Hiding the cracks where our hopes once remained.
In this gray realm where the weary convene,
Resignation and cynicism are seldom unseen.
A glimmer of honesty might start to heal,
A crack in the armor where truths might reveal.
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Dimensional Doodles
PoetryThis collection is a tapestry woven from the threads of cosmic wonder and digital intrigue, each poem a distinct journey through realms where intellect and imagination collide. Dive into a universe where quantum whispers mingle with the syntax of th...
