They are l o s t .
Seeing solutions but accepting illusions.
Conclusions created by envious minds.
They will call your gold copper,
Then copy what you offer
Under the guise of authenticity.
Intricately they study the pure,
And create perversions that do not cure,
But infect the mimes that follow them.
You cannot trust what pride has
Rotted
Between tight teeth.
Unwilling to pick free.
It’s control that they seek.
But do not worry.
The lost are consumed by their fear:
That you will one day see that they are not there.
They are mirages that fade under the truth.
The lost have no depth to grow their own roots.
So, they look for sweet flowers that grow through concrete.
And hope you don’t see what makes you unique:
A peace that blooms around negative thoughts.
My love,
They sure want what you’ve got!
Check out my author’s page and new poetry book https://www.mdelspoetry.com
the bloom 