Your withering roses
The color of your dying pride
Showtime
The clocks spin with their monotone tick
Speak the brilliance
Of your futile braincells
The putrid smell
The nutrition yolks of beauty
And the bacteria eating your fake depression
Wicked and rotten
Lied on a sequel of magnets:
Fake smiles and the wrist cut show
Or hypocrite sadness, razor papers
Slitting the inner smile
Unworthy attempts and lies beyond a smile
Soft injections of masks
Blessed words for the expecting crowd
A truth unknown for 99% of humankind
You won't fall from your lies' structure
For it's sustained by brainwashed maggots
Author notes
Dedicated with love to all of those who support gentle lies and dare to say anything against the raw truth.
A contest entry
- The Ultimate Goal by N e a r.
20000 points, ended June 2, 2008, 946 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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