I'll Supply the Cup If You Fill It Up

You conjure up a rhythm,
The way you wind your words,
Seemingly nothing hidden,
In the lines becoming blurred.

I can see your half-smile.
In prose; you like to heal.
Warm, easy, drunken wiles,
But when is easy ever real.

Just a little modification,
You can tell me what I need.
Tell me that i'll feel better,
Following all the lies you feed.

Allow yourself to be selfish,
Do something for 'me'.
You know how to sell it,
All can dance to that melody.

Your choices have reason.
Targets with criteria.
Broken, lost or looking,
You offer an ulterior.

But virtue cannot be sold,
True kindness is not currency,
And you will never find it,
While profit is your priority.