Sycophant

What brings you around again with dirty looks and snide comments from an ever changing face? Don’t you think you’ve proved your point? We’ve heard it all before, excuses you leak to deceive; growing lies that paint the picture of an overwhelming need to be the center of attention like a baby throwing fits. We’ll stand by to watch you dig your grave and we’ll be laughing when you’re gone.

What did you expect from the shit that left your mouth? Did you think they’d swarm like flies consuming every word; maggot disciples feeding on ever eager ears; spreading your disease: a plagued sense of pride? I’m going to be blunt, straight to the fucking point…

I hate your fucking guts.