Shape-shifters

The agreeable sort concern me

those yes men, yes women

who’ll bend over backward

to grab your attention

shape-shift to fit the mood

chameleons, 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

sirens blazing,

arrows pointing at them,

whilst screaming look at me! Look at me!

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 impostors?

 

Whoring for attention on your time

sneaky opportunist bastards

I don’t trust them, they don’t like me so much

these days.