Nice, because you're expected to be nice...
Otherwise, you couldn't be bothered.
I churn at obligatory niceness.
I yearn for the genuine.
In others,
in myself.
Make me real.
Men weren't created for falsehood,
it's like a trace of poison that cripples the giant..
leaving an unmistakable stench,
and a living corpse.
Unsightly sight,
it still tries to move with its might.
For how long?
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