Guilty Pleasure/An Overdose of Imitation

It seems we love the things that are bad for us,Mind over matter, it doesn't matter to usBecause we mind the words and leave behind what matters,Too busy chopping up words served to us on a platter,But it doesn't matter how you dice 'em,Serve 'em up cold and then switch the heat on,They're just hors d'oeuvres to prep you for the real ones,Covered up in facades to leave you pleased and,Anticipating the main course to satisfy your appetiteSalivating for a fix that leaves you tasting for a bite,Of that substance that doesn't suffice,For the craving of real that feels right,Because right now the preservatives your serving just ain't fresh enough,Watered down, coated upI'm past my limit of that fake stuffPrepping your words for some quick returnPleasing tongues for the time being while you get yours,But the taste has faded too soon,And the words have left a bitter bud to bloomToo aware of any pint of substitution,So your attempts are too soon caught before you can excuse 'em,Now when you're ready to bring the pure ingredientsDon't forget to leave out your old habits,Because those cold left overs aren't enough fulfillment,For someone who notices the differenceFrom the real and store bought presentation of temptation,That leaves no lasting impression,Instead impress me with a lack of showing off,Serve it how it's made and then it wouldn't be so hard to trust,That the words that you're giving are really raw and uncut.(the moral of the poem: people talk a whole lot of shit that is meaningless! lol and we fall so easily into their trap because it sounds so good, so watch out for the fakes, they will front like they offering you somethin' you never tasted when in the end it's just as bitter as the rest)