Grey,
Dead,
Standing there in fakery and taking.
Idle friendships,
Eying stares,
Toothless grins and forced hand shaking.
Their smiles equip to mask the in-depth breaking,
Of hearts
and minds
and souls
and lives,
of others they try to pull in with their making
Of Falsehood.

Not knowing who or what they are,
Or what they will be,
Or what they might become.
They take and spread their message of life and....
“Oh look, see just how we are having fun?”
All wrapped up in a neat shiny package with instruction on how it is to be done.
“And now a call for the cheque book,
don’t forget the cash!”

Led to the front,
With warm arms flung wide if your one of the chosen,
With the reality and the truth unspoken,
There’s certainly no room for the broken,
And they’ll show you the way to the door.

And so softly,
softly,
softly,
they mouth their lies.
Almost whispers, as you close your eyes.
Swaying gently,
Hand on your head,
Falling down as though you are dead.
A quick look to see, for someone to catch you,
But don’t fool yourself, they’ve already snatched you!
You want to get up but you feel that you can’t,
For no one else is....
Your just playing a part!


Yes It wasn’t for going to be loved and accepted.
Your test won’t fool me!...


I’m not here to be tested.