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The Choice
I met Death today.
He was outside with his Drugs,
They were ready to play.
Charm, Hate, and Wit,
All showed up with frowns,
And proceeded to kill the king and steal his gold crowns.
I’m not suicidal,
It’s just the chief thought of my conscience.
Because Love, Confidence and Exclusiveness
Walk around so pompous.
Never invited, yet always asking,
The Truest emotions we always are masking.
Fear of Sir Truth is what strives us to judge,
For who’d act like water,
When you could be fudge?
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