Ironic
In the shadows there's whispering, someone is listening
To every word, that you say about them now.
Secrets you shared when really, no one else cared,
Things you said, when you thought you, were alone.
Are now nightmares playing out loud in your head.
Your pretty little clothes & gobs of, face paint, which you’ve hidden behind.
Weren’t enough to pacify. Why! Couldn’t you just be, nice?
Now on those delightful words in which, you spoke,
Ironic but, now you choke.
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