Fake

Too much fake in that flake
No amount of milk can wash it out
Dropping names to get a head in a line
Pushing people out of the way
Stepping on hearts all the time
Nothing else matters
But their own bottom line
Turning heads as they push by you
When it happens you want to shout
Knowing theirs will come in time
When they look into a mirror
Can they start to see?
All the ugliness they have come to be
No amount of makeup can turn it around
You want to laugh at their discomfort
But all you can do is think how very sad
What you once thought of as fine
Turned out to be filled by grime
So much potential wasted by self design
Can they recognize the face?
The face they have come to be
Trying to restore perfection
No matter how ugly it has come to be
Even the chosen fall
With spastic indifference they crawl
Reaching up for a hand
Too much fake in that flake
No amount of milk can wash it out
Dropping names to get a head in a line
Pushing people down as they shove by you
Stepping on hearts all the time
All an effort to fill the emptiness in their own
Somehow it is sad as you see them crawl
A soreness that once was more
Wasted by self design
Can they recognize the face?
That reflects back at them
Believing they were always more
Perfection with flews
Was never perfection at all