Yes, you are the cream of the crop;
the man on top.
But you aren't that special.
The throne you hold high
at the top of your lie
is anything but deserved.
So go and get ******
if it makes you feel at home.
But I won't condone your narcissism.
For your mental state
is what brings to me the hate
and the pain that is intolerable.
You say you're a friend.
But then where, friend, was your hand
when you didn't stand by me?
When I was so lost
that you couldn't even toss
the biggest object in the world to find me.
Yes, you are the king of the sky;
the man so fly,
you can't contain it.
The feathers you ruffle,
so the world thinks you're trouble,
is an obvious adaptation.
Evolution will hide
the secret inside.
As will I, since I know it.
But someday it will leak
and you'll open your beak
to squawk at us all; save it.
For I have done my part;
gave access to my heart.
Even after you repeatedly trampled it.
So go and fly, bird.
Tell more victims your word
before the annual molt begins.
Yes, you are the size of a bee;
As small as me.
If only your ego could tell you.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 5:42 AM UTC
Yes, you are the cream of the crop;
the man on top.
But you aren't that special.
The throne you hold high
at the top of your lie
is anything but deserved.
So go and get ******
if it makes you feel at home.
But I won't condone your narcissism.
For your mental state
is what brings to me the hate
and the pain that is intolerable.
You say you're a friend.
But then where, friend, was your hand
when you didn't stand by me?
When I was so lost
that you couldn't even toss
the biggest object in the world to find me.
Yes, you are the king of the sky;
the man so fly,
you can't contain it.
The feathers you ruffle,
so the world thinks you're trouble,
is an obvious adaptation.
Evolution will hide
the secret inside.
As will I, since I know it.
But someday it will leak
and you'll open your beak
to squawk at us all; save it.
For I have done my part;
gave access to my heart.
Even after you repeatedly trampled it.
So go and fly, bird.
Tell more victims your word
before the annual molt begins.
Yes, you are the size of a bee;
As small as me.
If only your ego could tell you.
