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I thought you were real
But you were fake
Tying my cape around my shoulders
You twisted my words to fit your own
I sit here, huddled, thinking
Run my fingers across the guitar
The sound is full
Like I want my life to be
Goosebumps
Make my skin uneven
Just like our friendship was
You sucked out my energy
Sort of like a leech
Popularity only counts in the superficial world
Twiddling tinsel around like a wreath
In my hair
I'd have liked you to be the tinsel
Smooth with no sharp edges, though naturally you'd be scratchy sometimes, still, always to be there
Isn't that what I asked you for?
Mr Bluebird is sitting on my shoulder now
You are a case, not a person
But I don't care any more
Because I'm happy
You're the way you are because you were born such
Pity
God sure wasted a life on you
Well maybe you were created to teach other people how disgusting it would be to be you
I actually experienced what your poem is about, which is why it has a lot of meaning to me. Keep up the good writing!