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Yes, yes they live for things like cloths
And they party and live like hoes.
No! Pencil high girls, please! Yes, we don’t need those
And they pretend and become loving fakers
But by true nature they are in deed heartbreakers.
As they walk on ground they imitate earth shakers.
When the liquor and speakers call they are activated and in motion.
Sweat voices, smiles, kisses, touches, eye contact and body language is their poisons potion.
You! Yes! You, blind man with eyes that see, do you hear my notion?
You! Yes! You, def man with ears that can hear, listen to the truth in their lies.
Everything about them is fading into darkness; even the truth in their eyes.
Their now flaming wings choose to fly underground and ignore the living skies.
They all stand together, all alone-
Inside rotting crackling flash and bone.
Still at mind; as their hearts turn to stone.
Mind calculating ready, always knowing what to say.
Throw experience and pain forgive me as I am compelled to relay…
To date, in loving memory, to confess; oh! How empty is they.
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