Their Joke

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
So sick of pretenders.

Submitted: May 21, 2012

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Submitted: May 21, 2012



Oh how delightful, the hungry hungry hippo, fat filled with lies as the layers of greed and con cover your tracks. Oh yes you're blessed, but only because you give the one thing you desire most, you.
Oh how the tables have turned petty human, it's what you are. Your throne so high, I dare you to jump.

Sweet coward sweep forth with fear as you fall but what's to fear? Long live the king.
Once you're dead you're no longer redeemed.
There's a void in your faith and I've found it.
Sweet circus freak how you hurt to be pained with the mist of your charm. Hurt the hurt and run but your idiosyncrasy fools you into idiotic traits and now you're left with more than you ran from.

Laugh as you have the last laugh but there's always a faint whisper, a silenced chuckle in your absence.

Born an angel with devil horns, who are you and what have you done with my dearly beloved? For the eyes I've fallen for were a golden brown and this liar set before me sees me cold and grey. Pretender. You watch others burn in your path with ignorance and yet I'm still below zero.

I curse the day your curse has released you after sucking you dry while you're left alone thirsting for the slightest hint of survival. I love you, but not this. Imposter. You deceive the ones who want to walk blind. But you seduced the wrong one and now it's imploding.

Fair king what will you do now? What will you do when I watch you bleed out as you watch your heavens fall into flames? Fabrication runs deep in your fibers and I'm going to draw them out.... strand by strand.

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