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I've always wondered what it was like to be fake.
To be the set of hands that when a tear falls, shakes.
As soon as laughs streak down the aisle, I break,
All the happiness in the room, tremble as I quake.
You know what they say, "fakers gonna fake,"
Nobody mentions when the taker's gonna take.
I am the taker,
the mercenary baker,
the troubled- mind maker,
your devious faker.
I lie to the newspaper, I reach for the stars.
I snatch key's from the gated—medal's not far.
Maybe fakers gonna fake, and breakers gonna break,
But I am the top sluggard, and takers gonna take.
You see: I take and I break, and I break and I take,
Least the memory falls short and the dreams start to fade.
If my habits were to take pause,
as if I suffered a great cause,
I would just as quick say that
your trophy ain't speak my laws.
Maybe fakers are the wakers,
who break 'ere the haters.
But I am the taker, and as you well know:
Fakers gonna fake, breakers gonna break
While—sir—the ones on the top shelf, yeah,
Takers Gonna Take.
— m.y.
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Cryptomnesia | a 2022 collection of poetry written by Morigan Young
PoetryA simple collection of poetry curated by moi. Derived by the depths of my Poetizer account. Written from the heart, polished by the soul. That being said, please, read and enjoy! - "The writer has such a unique and creative way of putting their inne...
