A.N. Lost it a bit towards the end >.<

The people applaud as they gather around

The Devil is dancing in her dark velvet gown

She swirls and swishes, but she’s not what she seems

She’s the scum of the sewers, though she consorts with queens

She wears a tiara, but it shines in disgrace

Though her features are perfect, they’re repulsed by her face

But she sings in strange rhymes to catch people’s attention

And in listening they find her the perfect distraction

She fills up their hearts with cruel, shallow thoughts

And makes them her pawns when their affection is bought

But her words are bare

empty, though pretty they seem

When I add my own words in, I, too, cause a scene

Because the words that I write make hardened hearts cry

The words that I write ring with the sorrows of life

My words are far purer than any she sings

Though her words fall flat, mine echo when they ring

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