"In The Muck Of Their Mire"

They walk with a flair
In heaviness of thickened air.
Appearing too small,
While speaking large to us all.

They brag and they boast
Wanting, us all to toast,
Of their winnings in life,
We say, "Oh, too much strife".

If we're smart we'll see
That nothing will be,
No winnings are there,
no applause we'll share.

They trip on their tongues,
They swallow their lies.
They fall to the ground,
As it finally comes to mind.

That all along
And the time that was spent,
Was for themselves,
While their ego swells.

Soon they'll holler,
They'll scream,
"Help me, I've fallen."
Too late dear one,
All too late so it seems.

So sad but true,
Pity we might feel.
Open arms we give them,
But the reality is real.

They see they are nothing,
As they feel their fall.
Mental bruises are felt,
When the facts they recall.

How pitiful they look,
Their voices are weak.
They know what's been said,
And now they can't speak.

They're drowning you see,
In their Muck & their Mire.
One's soul can't be saved,
For they've started this fire.

~BLUJDJ-DENDY~
10-17-08