They

They tell you they are everywhere.

They tell you what not wear.

They tell you there is no way to win.

They tell you to roll around your playpen.

They tell you they will not go away. There is nothing you can do but stay.

They say, “Come with me. You don’t have to pay.”

They love to speak.

They love to act like they know every beat.

They sit and speak and think they are always right.

They can’t see, that the light in their head only shines so bright.

They sleep in peace.

They make ravenous use of their ending lease.

They are mentally celibate.

They believe it is their Deity being deliberate.

They praise their Deity as generous.

They.

They rebuke their Deity as disingenuous.

They meet their day.

They are unable to say, to their dismay!

They finally open their eyes.

They cannot go around the world turning a blind-eye.

They think, “What have I done!” They see what’s become of their Stepford Wives.

They see the wasted lives.

They see their maleficent bend.

They see that everything comes to an end.

They see that it takes so little to live on repeat.

They see the lives with so many skipping beats.

They can’t keep count.

They recount and recount and recount and freak out!

They are no longer acceptable.

They see the bigger picture, that life is best lived by blindly avoiding the inevitable.

They see they are worthless.

They go home and lament their lifetime of distortions.

They cannot stop the motionless.

They think, “Maybe I’ll lay, tomorrow is another day.”

They have nothing more to say.

They look into the mirror, the inside and out.

They see their worthlessness in every grey, their thinness, and their stout.

They say to themselves, “Inside I’ll stay.”

They know it is their time to pay.

They know it is fast approaching.

They know, the moment of judgement; there is no more avoiding.

They are guilty of disjointing.

They disarmed anything they found annoying.

They claimed so many in their toying.

They claimed they were things warranting destroying.

They claimed what wasn’t theirs, they called theirs what wasn’t there.

They enacted their self-ascribed dare.

They saw without realizing.

They were born blind.

They were visionless to what they didn’t need.

They were endless in their pursuit of fresh meat.

They sit and think about every meet.

They lied without malice.

They promised them all a golden palace.

They lied to lie.

They lied to entice.

They lied to deliver not even the element of surprise.

They never realized.

They were transparent in their vice.

They were decrepit in moral character in plain sight.

They didn’t realize the others just didn’t want to fight.

They felt they could spend and spend and spend.

They were always there with nothing to expend.

They walked by each mirror without second-thinking.

They walked because it was their style, to go about life stinking.

They knew nothing of worldly travesties.

They were so vigorous in being nasty.

They knew nothing of being led into a ruse.

They didn’t even know it as abuse.

They knew what they self-taught.

They knew it was theirs to later discard. They enacted upon what they freely bought.

They knew of their unspoken bid.

They finally know what they did.

They know and want to hide.

They should know, the wingless cannot touch the sky.

They will sooner or later.

They will have no place to go, not even their lair.

They will get theirs.

They no longer take from those who no longer care.

They meet what they reaped.

They will no longer be what makes the rest weep.