Shape-shifters

The agreeable sort concern me,

Those yes men and yes women,

Who’ll bend over backward,

To grab your attention,

Shape-shift to fit the mood,

Chameleon skinned slippery little critters,

If you’re in the right crowd,

At the right time, with the right face,

If you’re popular if the pieces fit,

If you have anything they want,

Anything they crave,

They’ll suck up to you like leeches,

They’ll wear your mark of approval,

Like a flashing neon sign,

With sirens blazing,

Arrows pointing at them,

As you stand in silhouette,

Whilst screaming look at me! Look at me!

And they’ll follow you like a lost hound,

Everywhere you go,

In case you might adopt them,

Or throw them a bone to chew,

They might even share it with you,

Something you can both sink your teeth into,

You’ll begin to wonder,

At the bones, you’re picking,

You’re living, but who’s living it,

Who are these imposters?

 

Whoring for attention,

On your time,

Sneaky opportunist bastards,

I don’t trust them,

They don’t like me so much these days.

 

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