Too many faces back on display.
Whichever is yapping I wish would go away.
The sound is droning so bad I could scream.
Won’t admit cause I know that would make you beam.
Smile from ear to ear.
Get out of here.
Smarmy and insincere.
Don’t try and spout another word.
Pack of excuses stuffed into your head.
If that was me I would have begun to bled.
For the pressure it causes must be extreme.
But for you it must be different cause you’re shouting about being supreme.
Grin like a high clown.
Pushing me down.
Determined to make me frown.
Yet you’re the one who calls me monster.
Impassioned by the manipulation you breed inside.
With you every other second is a violent ride.
No real time to catch a breath before you dive off the edge.
Not a way I can live my life.
Slap me with a cowards bite.
Kick and scream and moan some more.
Espouse and claim I am a bore.
No soul, no care, no hint of being fun.
In your eyes I am the sacrificial one.
But truth be told its cause I know the real you,
And you don’t want me to be able to,
Speak my mind and the facts.
Reality would shatter the illusionary grasp.
So paint a picture that you’re a victim.
But deep down you know the ending is not written.
I wasn’t the first so won’t be the last.
Think you can hide your parasitic lash?
Simon A Jackson - Writer 