I feel the whoosh
Of the gas of the person
Closest to me
Lighting the torch
Denouncing
Pouncing
Twisting
Turning
My words
Turned against me
Constantly
In a clever
Genius way
To confuse me
Creating a paranoia
So they can feel their own
Hapless hallelujah
Winning a war
I will never know
In a game
Meant not
Ever to win
It's the quiet sin
That most will never understand
Yet it's there
An empty hand
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