The things he wants to do,

the path that he has planned.

The games he learns to play,

to beat the other man.

The face he tries to think with,

the one he’ll use to talk.

The lengths he has to take,

to stand out from the flock.

Different roles are taken on,

the words have been rehearsed.

Wishing others all good fortune,

while he hopes their bubble bursts.

The knives he has sharpened,

to be plunged into the back,

of the one who has the skills

he knows he’ll always lack.

The magic tricks he learns,

to beat the other crowd.

Words of hate are thought

while praise is said aloud.

The fakes he tries to cover up,

with his blanket make of lies.

He hopes we haven’t noticed,

but we’ve seen it in his eyes.