You speak not because you can, or it’s a necessity;
But because back stabbing comes to you naturally
It was never that we were sworn enemies;
But I don’t think your mind works factually.
You hear, and add, and repeat the lies;
All because you were, you are, and will always be hollow.
You misguide and recite those iridescent lies,
For fear that the truth about me may be left un-swallowed.
But it is not your fault, I tell you;
I know it’s you insecurities
And the fact which haunts you-
That I’m so much better than you, you’ll never be like me
Author's Note
I'm just upset. And I'm done with bitches.
I hate every single one of those backstabbing mother-effing bitches who have nothing better than mad-mouthing me in their life.
Yeah, they've never been in my shoes.
YOU ARE READING
The Written Word
PoésieA collection of poems ranging from love to hate and every feeling one encounters in his/her life. Anthology.