Your promises hold true and strong

Like wax before a fire,

And the person that you claim you are

Proves further, you're a liar.

Because you cause all those that cross your path

To wilt like dying flowers,

Yet you raise yourself on pedestals,

And talk and brag for hours.

You're the greatest thing thats ever happened

To this tiny town

And yet the breeze blows calm

And sun shins brighter

When you're not around.

And note, your heart is cold

And your desires are all tainted,

Which have nothing in resemblance

To the facade you think you've painted.

But the thing which ails me most

And makes my veins run cold with fear

Is that I share these things in confidence

Alone, before the mirror.

-Victor Tinsdale