What is it in this life that people
Find happiness in?
The smiles I see as I walk through a town
So swallowed up in self love, and self preservation
Do not lend themselves to the smiles
That people show the world.
They paint the portrait of demons with angel faces,
Waiting to cast me aside when my purpose is served.
They are innocent in nothing,
Honesty is not a word spoken.
When I see the nightlife of the city come creeping from
The gutters and nests they hide in during the day,
I see them for what they are,
Liars,
Sycophants,
Counterfeit lovers,
Convenience friends.
Words once spoken now resonate in my being,
Hell is other people.
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