In front of yawning mouths
I'll surrender;
Holding a candle
Before the shrine of forgiveness;
Waiting for that meager light to snuff out
So then I can leave,
With the last of my fire
Submitted to a parody.
I'll reap rewards of statistical failure
And ignite to the rhythm,
Like a puppet for the people.
Your majesty,
I'll perform
To your tunes
That don't match my song
But I'll burn and break
To fit the mould.
So accept the apology
Of being my soul;
'Cause I know
I forgot
That this body is not my own.
YOU ARE READING
The Truths of a Liar
Puisi"She is sane, no matter how trapped she feels; if anything at least she is braver in pretense." All the poems I upload are written by me over the course of a few years (and still going). Highest Rank 1st April, 2018 - #61 (Not an April fool's joke �...
