It gets peculiar when you are exposed foolish doesn’t it?
Misguided attempt betrays you at doing,
Conscience level sinking, you thought you had it
Rushed attempts to quell the cool.
The disgusting meal of your own uppish dribble
Foul taste of justification sets makes it triple,
Guises of interpreting expectation
peppered the wound with traverse lamentation.
Ego comes in, it shields the gather.
People come down, they say “it don’t matter”.
You still feel your burn, fix your face in the plaster.
The cut down is repeated
So, it’s obviously mastered.