The Media Executive: Broken Hearts and Plastic Lies

A thousand words
Ripping through the void of cyberspace
Colors caught in cobwebs
Fretting to escape
A predator that knows its prey
And so into the hearts of millions everyday
It sows itself and lays its seeds into their brains
It tunes into their lives and takes control
A story sold on front page magazines
The sex, the love, the high
The aftertaste of bittersweet desires

I owned this world where I create
A place where every man can live and dream
Until I met your radiant face
A color too bright for my cobweb space
To hold and keep under a strong embrace
With you the truth is bare under the sun
I need no data to know that you are fun
No plan to change the way you look
Or team to make sure that you run

Despite all this
Somehow you’re not for sale
Here behind my fancy desk
And underneath my trendy clothes
An empty heart
A sense of everlasting guilt
That I could never seem to place my lies
A broken heart is hard to advertise

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Character: 74/100