"You're all just a lie,"
I whisper, hushed.

"Just a liar.

You let all your words roll off your lips;
you solve life like a problem, but take a few skips.

You want to realize that you are a lie, but
your brain is a wiser and smarter ally.

The elevator of life inclines to your shame,
but you press the button down, your virtue unnamed.

You don't cheat at the game, but you play by the rules;
watch for mistakes, just to call players "fools."

You analyze your movements, all the day long;
you pretend not to notice when you get it wrong.

You're depressed and can't do a thing with your life,
I just wish for once that you'd get that right.

I'm better off without a person like you,"
so I rose my fist--punched that mirror in two.