i watched my seemingly spotless slate get covered in dust
my disgust for the skeletons left in my closet
sit like green throw up on a golden plate
the gates of hell unleash unholy gases
toxic fumes start to spread & as we speak the pride in reputation is dead
the dates all add up &
well well well what do you know?
the snake strikes
but the pain of the poison
like most storms passes
& the neon light's of intellect flashes so bright in the distance
it's blinding to see
we squint & hope that what is vague becomes obvious
i mean after all
No one is tarnish free
no one can survive using the word
"me" without giving thought to those who never move without
using "we" at the beginning of every sorry excuse
the self respect that was crystal clear becomes foggy as the memory of good characteristics become groggy
The death of reputation
the end of respect
& the inevitable start of neglect from peers
choices that were once sincere
now seem to veer into unknown roads
that are encrypted with secret codes
The death of Rep. continues internally flooding the vain's
never showing a glow of external evidence
only proof of a heart & it's former residence