Too immersed lately,
I start to feel nothing.
Just the summer crickets,
How I wish, were torn apart...

The yearbook seems void,
With only traces of graphite.
Just a few words of shrewdness,
How I wish, were not that bland...

Fake smiles and stupid promises,
With too many 'fill-in's',
Just until they discern,
How I wish, were not that naive...

Scowls alongside the tepid applause,
What do people actually think?
Just a few rare moments,
How I wish, were not that empty...