Faded Glory
October 2010 (9th grade)

I despise you.
You make me sick.
I'm tired of you
and your pedestal.
Little do you know that I'm putting
a match under your seat.
Everyone else may not see it,
but you are no angel.
I can see your horns holding up that
dollar store halo.
You're not fooling anybody.
Especially not me.
The light in that shining ring above your head
is going out,
and you are still transparent as glass.
I see right through your phony little game like you're bathing in Windex.
You can stare me down with
your puppy dog eyes,
but it won't work.
You can smile
your crooked smile,
but I won't break.
You can
lie, 
decieve,
humiliate me,
but you.
will.
not.
win.
You can stand on top of your
"throne"
but 
I will not bow.
You've stolen from me,
and I took what's rightfully mine.
You've shot at me,
and I took you down.
Like I said,
you cannot beat me.
Oh, where art thou?
I couldn't care less.
You're throwing yourself your own
pity party,
but guess what?
No One Came.
Karma is a witch, isn't it?
Indeed.
It is.
You treat people like crap,
then you put on that MASK
and everyone falls for it.
That was quite a show.
And the award for the
"Lamest Lie"
goes to you.
Everyone around you is
*Starstruck.*
Except me.
One day,
you will fall from atop of your
pedestal.
And I will be there to laugh.
Finally,
you will have fallen
along with all of your
Faded Glory.