mark ’em


Watch them flock now after my fame,

Stumbling hastily while scathing my name,

Before they would scold me for being this way,

But now is new, or so they say.

A fruitless bunch of clowns, playing an act,

They needn’t search far to get a good laugh,

There, in the mirror, being cracked,

The finest joke of the century.

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