Wicked Lies

My eyes caught the wicked lies,
You said that they all would care,
One day I’ll be better,
Change your clothes,
Change your ways,
Soon they’ll see you better then them,
So I change so I would be seen.
Yet still they all walk past me,
Not a glance,
Not a thought runs through their heads,
So I turn and run away,
With dreams of death,
And knife in hand,
With a quick slit of the wrist,
My life runs away,
And all they lie,
When I’m lying dead,
With a rose on my grave,
And a stone and my head,
They all do tell,
Of what they never did.

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