Slithering subtlety, the serpent saw a shard shaped slightly like his self. He gazed into the glass, seeing a reflection. "What beautiful feathers I have!", he said covered in scales. "What beautiful colors--- and wow! Look at my wings!" He mused to himself, (it's no wonder I soared so much higher than the others...They had no wings! No illustrious feathers! They only have scales, that's why they're different than me! They not like myself, or other birds that I see).
He slithered sedated and satisfied with a sullen, sad and insecure of sense self under surface. Along the way he spotted a Gold Parakeet, he compared himself and said this through his teeth: "Your scales are ugly, and cracked, and dull. You slither with your wings from trees very tall. Why can't you fly, and be bright like me? You're unable, and there's something wrong with you, all the other birds agree." The parakeet parried the poisonous paragraph perfectly: "When you see me, you see what you want. You attack what I am because I have what you flaunt. But I soar high, while your words sink low. One day you'll be measured by the scales you show." The parakeet pondered puzzled at the python's reply: "I see only the reflection of the glass I passed by."
Never let anyone tell you How ****** up a person is Pointing at Her or Him At them or here with Disdain dressed To look like despair God damns the Sanctimony of fools Black robes Far worse for the wear Let em point at me I have not a care Because just like them I am Jack the Ripper. I am St. Paul I sifted salt with Ghandi And I slit throats with King Saul I am the ****** Mary I hear the knocking on my door It may just be the neighbor A fiend looking to fix me Or to score. Either way We’ve all been here Countless times maybe more Its eternity that's calling Remember living forever? Before you were ever born? I've offered every solace I've mended every fall I’ve turned the other cheek And the pious broke my jaw My work here is near done And trust me I had a ball So shed not a tear Nor curse me to befall For soon you will be me And I will be you all.
I'm having thoughts of grandiose things. Pain filled lives always sing for less rain Your body comes and goes Used up like a vacant hole There are so many cigarette butts lying around Polluting the ground, like you did to my mind I'm trying to remember the light and asking myself, "was it always this bright?" It always seems like nothing matters to you - and I guess you're right Right now it seems like all you want to do is fight.