extravagance is his style.
but there’s something in denial.
his lavishness withdraws when it’s dark,
as he sits down to count his marks.

he proudly proclaims his fame,
yet a hook drags onto his name.
his sociable aura emanates from his shell,
but inside, his lies create a living hell.

why he does this, i’m not quite sure,
he only finds himself pondering why he feels so insecure.
one day i fear i might find him with some rope,
asking “why did i do this, i had a lot of hope.”