You struck gold, a manufactured kind of love
Clock struck midday, a manufactured sense of real time
You engaged in conversation now and again
But mostly you sat in a corner dictating rules
The throne is yours, the money is yours, the world is yours, basically
Keep it to yourself, it won’t hurt anyone
They’ll keep the hurt with all the nothing they don’t even have
But one day, you will seek love and affection
And that, will be the everything you don’t and never had

Zozo on the world around her and us..

Zoë Hazel xx