Charlatans are slippery creatures,
Good at the game they play,
Living behind their many masks.
Their mechanizations know no limits,
Freewheeling justifications
Bending around impossible turns,
Judgment to suit their need of the moment.
Bitterness and envy devour them like worms.
Fear of discovery fuels their deceptions.
They are too busy figuring out their next move
To see anybody but their own false image.
Their real selves are somewhere near,
Hiding in a dark corner
Where they can’t be seen.
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