You thought you were instilling confidence by treating my thoughts and dreams as nonsense
your words were as strikes of lightning on grassy plains in my heart you did the same lit a unyielding fire to seek real friendship I desired but in you never quench your cruel words made me flinch always telling me how to run my life making a mile out of a inch putting salt on a torn wound more of a handful then a pinch berating words use a tool or wrench acting as if I was something you could fix petty manipulation in your fashionable bag of tricks but you were just a miserable person trying to give out verbal kicks shyness turned to rage none of your forgotten advice was sage the only thing you had on me was old-age the best part is when the hero overcomes the villain on exciting page in a story about coming of age
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