Playing Around

.

You so like to play around

with the feelings of your friends;

you will push it to the end

sometimes up and sometimes down.

You're not fit and you're not sound,

all you do are crazy things ;

dirty intrigues and nasty flings.

Friends are falling to the ground.

Like a Master you move strings

of the puppets that you create,

sometimes soon, sometimes too late.

You're amazed at what it brings :

Friends that know now what is hate,

for they saw what you're about.

Others, feeble, that will pout,

and curse, and cry. You should update

all your schemes, they look so old ;

all the traps,the words, the moods.

Every feeling understood

by those who grasped the nonsense told.

Not my caring hands to hold,

cause you have pushed it too far.

Not even game, you're not a 'star',

not smart or clever, big or bold.

Game is over. all my cards

on the table... and I leave.

No advice. No proof to give.

You have played the game too hard.