How many times I've felt,
My intentions misconstrued, not for sincerity,
But for something else.
And what can one do but to just let it go?
I mean, to enter that world at all,
In which everyone you meet's something than what you see,
Seems an awful waste of potential.
One can never know what someone is thinking,
But one's own instinct is consistent,
And offers consistency for others' instinct,
So that one can trust in what they think you had meant.
And it's alright,
There's just no convincing some people,
Because they have never convinced themselves,
That someone can actually be truthful.
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