Objects in the mirror, never,
Appear as they seem.
Demented and twisted words
Believed only by the keen.
Faith for the wicked, trusted by the cruel,
Thought they had me covered,
But they're over by the mule.
Every action forward,
Is hindered by the few,
As if in reward
To lay the body strewn.
Conviction and belief in self
Now runs deeper than blood,
Change is the only constant,
Even when covered in mud.
Two steps forward, three steps back,
Will never propel to where it's at.
The distance covered from here to there
Will transform lives just like that.
For better or for worse,
Chanced in cake.
Tolerance vanquished by curse.
To know what's what, and really fake.
Measured words for precise action
Will lay the stage to judge.
To tweak their lives with satisfaction
When nothing has been fudged.
Destiny is for the making
To leaps and bounds ahead.
There is no more looking back
Or else, I might as well be dead.
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