Saint

I can't communicate with a brick of eyes and ears
Stuffed with cotton, shutting out their fears
I have good days and bad days
But nothing in between
However, none of that is seen.

I've begun to procrastinate, though I'm not that occupied
I guess I have a lot on my mind since all I can think of is your lies

I wish I could open up your head and take a peek
I know it wouldn't be that hard to find what I seek
For you're shutting me out, hence these rhymes of complaint
Why would it matter, though?
I'll carry on acting like a saint.

My thoughts are filled with visions of myself breaking down
But all I can manage is a disapproving frown
I wouldn't be surprised if you've never noticed my lack of smiles

My heart's heavy with piles
Piles of every bottled up breakdown
I'm tired, I've thought for miles
But let's keep acting like clowns
It's all we're good at