Your tongue is a weapon,
These thoughts are unbidden,
They were unwritten,
Here are the lines to your personal song.
Do you word it how you want,
Or how they want it to sound?
Do you let it slip off your tongue,
Or is it sweetened with smiles and thank you?
Are they taken by surprise,
By the poisoned glamour?
By the way your jaw is set,
How you look at them with contempt.
Now you’ve changed.
Where’s that sweet person gone?
It’s like they don’t even recognise you, when you’re being the realest you.
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