Look into my eyes
And tell me one of your optimistic lies,
Just something to stop my cries
I don't want any more cheese with my whine.
Look at me, please
You're like an infectious disease
You've inhabited my very being
Nothing is clear,
Not even the things that I'm seeing.
Look in the general vicinity of where I stand
Please stop staring at your hands
It's not your fault that you tend to break hearts.
You're simply under the optimist curse,
Unfortunately I heard it only gets worse.
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