Monday, May 23, 2011


You wear you're clothes a certain way, as if it makes you shine.
You're silence doesn't echo mystery, it just blotts out your pathetic mind.
All the quotes you like to say are stolen from a grave,
and the things you read to make you smart, dumb you every day.

You speak of things you've researched, stuff you're really interested in,
you debate your points in black and white as if you knew what you were actually saying.
You've conjured up an image, conventional to the norm,
as you spew your words out into the ears of the "lesser informed."

You've gotten to a point where you've been idolized yourself,
and you walk among grey analagies of people who live only to aquire your help.
You're a master in persuasion, and justified your pathetic views,
I've never hated anyone, until I met such a douche as you.