Mime

I watch from the sidelines as you stray from the right path, you are going nowhere fast, yet somehow you think that you have saved the best for last. Like a trainwreck waiting to happen, you apply another layer of polish to your nails with a grin. You were once as refined as a violin, but now you solely have the intelligence of a bobby pin. Keep heading in the direction that you are going in, wave goodbye to the friends that pass you by along the way. You are stuck in a state of arrested development, stagnating idly like a cat stuck in cement. You had all the potential in the world, yet chose to trade it in to be a pin up girl. You have used up all your coupons, and all you are left with is your blackened heart. From the start, you should have been able to see, that I was the best friend in your company. I tried much too hard to guide you with my hand, only to be traded in for a caricature of a man. I pray that one day you will reap what you sow, and when the bough breaks, your cradle will fall. If you were my child, I would have cut the cord, that led from my wallet right into your pockets. Like a failed rocket, you will never blast off. Nor will you get very far with the mentality that you are already a star. You can take all the pretty pictures that make you feel complete, but in the end you will merely end up in the streets. You are already filled with deceit, written in stone so it is concrete; prepare to enter a life filled with defeat. Your ugliness shows as your insecurities grow; you could never hold a candle to the ugly girls of the world. They were raised properly much to your contrite, as they know wrong from right. They do not stray the streets like a mangy dog, as they are asleep at night as you get lost in the fog. So the next time you claim to be the most beautiful alive, take a good, hard introspective look inside and realize that you are merely a shadow of the person that you could be as you have traded in your riches for bad company. Continue to sit at home, alone, smoking too many cigarettes a day; one day, your beauty will run out and you will start to decay. That is when you will get on your knees and pray, for the days of your past that went by too fast. It is such a shame to see you degrading yourself, like a wailing banshee, you cried wolf one too many times. No longer sublime, your words have lost their worth. You are merely a mime, brace yourself for you have created your very own version of Hell on earth.