Someone there is at it,
That likes the very bit,
Scorning all for flattery,
Or as is at, for some treat,
To the very end of the initial start.

Something there is that shows,
Outgrown and visible on no hearts,
Flattery like, mouthing out for bites,
Or as it be, for same reasons as hers,
To the very start of the initial end.

Reflections of all are mirrored in self,
And disregards made of things alike,
The deception of being one rejected,
Or as is at, the colossal blunder,
Of lies told, to the scatter.

Truthful be to the trust of time,
Truest be to the trust of one,
In expressions and in tone.

24th Nov. 2019