The feign.

The intricate webs of talks are laid.
The sweet tongues praise you.
Words coated with flattery are spurted out.
The same talk bitter of you behind.
Behind the veil, concealed are many a masks.
Some have fallen.
Some yet to fall off.
Some call you their own.
But disown you in odds.
The fragile 'bond' turn sour.
Cold shoulders are brushed against each other when crossing paths.
The pearls of geniality are scattered all around.
Well wishers are there but a few.
The rest roam like the disguised monsters.
All these are nothing but sham.
Be wary of the devilish contrivances. Of the plots hatched.
Feel the fragrance of true love and care in the air.
Prudence is uttermost.

Reviews

[Olivia Clune]

This was an interesting piece...there was a grey ominous feel to it. I enjoyed it!