Whispers Tell Lies

Doubters I can still hear your lying whispers,
haters I can still feel your knife digging into my back;

But I don’t need to hunt you down, my pen will
still find you, as this ink is up and ready to attack.

If you don’t like poetry I respect that, if you don’t
like me I will understand that to;

They say keep your friends close, and your enemies
even closer, I kind of think that saying was aimed at you.

You seem to think that you’re just born, then you
die, but you forgot all about the bit in the middle;

If you have a dream, then chase that dream, life isn’t
really a complicated riddle.

I really hate fake people, you make me feel fucking
sick;

In front of me you are all smiles and kisses, and
then behind closed doors, you’re the world’s biggest prick.

My dreams have already arrived, whilst yours will properly
just turn up late;

Each day I set myself a mission, whilst you just
sit at home and masturbate.

Some people can shout and scream, but venom flows
through my hand and into this pen;

The question isn’t AM I going to make it, the real
question is WHEN.

You walk around thinking you’re a star, when in
reality you’re just an overweight, balding knob;

You say putting on weight is all part of growing up,
NO, it’s because you put too much fucking food into your gob.

My god you have got so fat, you look just like the McDonalds
arches, turned over on its side;

If I were you I would avoid Alton Towers, as your
ass is to fat to get on any ride.

If you want to hate me, then go ahead and hate me,
just don’t come crawling back, expecting all to be forgotten;

With a fag hanging out your mouth and a turkey
neck, you are beginning to resemble Dot Cotton.

Writing expels my demons, I already have my ticket
into heaven, and I used this book as my deposit;

I think it’s time you stopped hiding, and finally stepped
out from your closet.

You get up, you put people down, then you go back
to sleep, each day the same continual Patten;

Don’t get me wrong I would love to knock you the
fuck out, just like my company changed names to,

“Poetry By Ricky Hatton”.

On the outside I am silent, but if you crack me
open, you will find my gift, just like a Kinder Surprise;

Don’t you dare listen to those whispering shadows,
as we all know that “Whispers Tell Lies”.