Fly on the wall

Blank and vacant
Sole and stagnant
Trying, but not very hard
Listening, but just barely
Looking but not trying to stare

I’ve turned into this
Maybe I should feel bad for only caring about myself
But who else has cared about me?
Sometimes theres only one left who knows me
I think the world of myself,
But the world doesnt care

So this is it then
Don’t talk to me unless you have something good to say
I don’t need your cynical criticisms, they’re just a little too much

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