Don’t cry kid, my lips are worse.
Yours have only lied through a kiss.
Mine have lied through the ages.
My lips spoke of passion when it was never there
Merely to get another stranger in my bed
My lips have pressed against others,
Many at the same time.
To fulfill my own sinful lust.
My lips lie when I promised friends I’d always be there
And then smirked as I sat at home watching TV
While they die in a hospital.
My lips grow into a wicked grin
As I sell out people who are close to me.
Letting them be tormented and killed.
My lips let heinous laughs pass through them
As I carry on a hit-man’s life.
So please, kid.
Save your tears.
Your lips are still pure.
© Copyright 2012 Piercedskull (UN: piercedskull at Writing.Com).
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