If i knew the truth would you admit it? if i'm sure you did would you tell me you didn't? if i saw you lie and knew you did would yoy cofess to me the truth? behind you'r eyes lay all the lies you told me once slowly falling down hill to what i do know and what you don't seem to get in a pit of blackeness of all along in your rhyme? though time and time again i know how you felt and told you your truth, you refused to believe me and threw it your growth was false and sensed with earth along it's narrow ridge and it's implored floor rough and tethered as though you exised
no more not the real you any way but one that is there to put this font a fake you that never should have been there like mud taken shape in the place of a rock.
Please stop the clock from making you change. The burnden is big and brutally framed.
