All these fake smiles surround you.
It’s like they see you,
yet they look right through you.
It’s as if you’re transparent.
Do you ever wonder?
Will they miss me when I’m gone?
Would they even notice if I just left?
Or, maybe it’s just me.
Maybe I just feel bad for myself.
Or, maybe they aren’t being fake.
I might be looking at this all wrong.
Maybe they’re transparent.
They’re the ones being looked through.
We might all be the same though,
all transparent,
all being looked through,
all feeling like the other is fake.
Yet we might all be the fake ones.