unjust

When I wake up in the morning
The first thought that comes to mind is your face
Covered with a fabricated smie
Taunting me, leaving me to mourn
To mourn over everything that never had a chance to take place
Yet you miss the things that never happened
Ironically , was it not you
Was it not you who said it should cease
And it's you who became the hypocrite
Constantly coming back
Constantly giving false hope
Constantly making these useless feeling grow
Your planting seeds
Watering them
Waiting for them to bloom
For an unjust future

Nobody knows
Nobody knows what's goes on in your mind
But the sad part is
Repeatedly everyday
When i wake up in the morning
The first thought that comes to mind is your face