2The pattern of bitterness,
A woven tapestry of hate,
As they make their dislike,
Into a reality so fake,
There are so many faces,
And not one my own,
I cannot find myself,
Surrounded yet alone.
The sourness so vile,
Becomes a charm so true,
As the hatred spreads,
Beyond and through.
A pretty thing it seems,
A fragile magick so cold,
Yet the rivers tide is endless,
And we will have nothing left to hold.
Their fake smiles atop
Their faker faces,
When the music stops,
We all change places.
A play put on to dupe,
Everyone and all,
Yet when the curtains drop,
The sky will fall.
Hold, Fall,
One, All,
Laugh, Cry,
Live, Die,