Clockwork

It works like clockwork, the only constant in my life,

That pierces my hopes like a blade of the knife.
Rejection comes of both the body and mind,
As nature dictates my nose back on the grind.

I sit in despair, an empty embrace,
The sting of disappointment runs down my wet face.
But I’ll plaster on a smile, wipe envy from my eyes,
As I nod politely while my soul inside cries.

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