the clock drags its tired weight
while secrets hide in shadowed corners,
whispering behind closed doors,
silent stories nobody admits.
someone's got a deal tucked away,
someone's eyes flicker like a secret,
and honesty’s a fragile thing—
just smiles that taste like bitter coffee.
boss’s grin is painted on,
a mask that hides the truth,
while beneath, intentions sharpen—
ready for the next move.
the fluorescent lights hum low,
and I sit here, lost in papers and pretense,
watching the game unfold,
waiting for the chaos to leak out.
because in this place,
truth’s a ghost,
and everyone’s pretending—
not to see it.
