It’s like when you choose Pepsi over Coke,
Casually settling for second, logic blown up in smoke.
“It’s okay, It’s fine. Long as you’re happy,” I choke,
smiling with my artificial grin.
It’s like going to Starbucks and not ordering coffee.
Caught unaware, but my confusion masks my jealousy,
And I’m musing, “Perhaps you adopt a no-caffeine policy,”
wearing my artificial grin.
It’s like grabbing hot coal bare handed.
The thongs are in reach, but you prefer to be scalded.
Your red palms make me wince. Why are you so hard headed?
But you cannot see past my artificial grin.
So I conclude. The obvious choices, you do not indulge in.
But I will not blame. After all, we’re just teens
Uncomfortable in our own skin
Wearing our artificial grins.