brat, cold hearted, poem, poems, poetry


How can you walk,

How can you talk,

Do your thing,

Walk these streets, like you’re the king?

How can you smile at me like that?

When in all reality, you’re nothing but a brat.

A brat who earns his livings by taking others smiles away.

But why make them pay?

Im not stupid, Ive seen you walk around,

As others drop next to you, white faced, you think you`re so profound.

But you are nothing but air.

You are nothing but air, so I understand why you care.

You want to be more than just a thing people take for granted.

You walk around like your heart has been transplanted.

You want to inject some kind of power feeling into them. Fear.

To me your`e still air, nothing, transparent, clear.

And you will remain exactly that,

Until you decide,simply, not to be a brat.

But I fear my warning is too late,

So Ill just leave the future happenings up to your fate.