Bereaved

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Your displacement is a joke
Your guilt is self created
You fish for feelings like we’d share them with you
Tact is a mystery
And you can’t hold your tongue
When it’s wagging like it does

You haven’t enough shame to stop embarrassing yourself
While you put everyone else on the shelf
In favor of your own reflection

It’s sad to watch..the drama you bring
The selfishness, I rarely want to claim you.
I asked if you were proud..you said absolutely..but I know the real reason. 
I see the real you.

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