SNITCHES

Fierce faces behind masks.
Unveiling remains a tough task.
An appearance of loyal brothers...
I was breaking bread with butchers.

The awful breath of betrayal.
Tears now boast of being loyal.
Dirty dentition behind a smile.
The parade of a pathetic guile.

Thorny hugs and handshakes...
friends finally pronounced fake.
They're in communion with the devil...
I'm a bag of beans attacked by weevils.

The sneaky streak of snitches.
I've been left with a million stitches.
All I wished them was good...
like Christ, I got nailed to a wood.

The street, now as cold as Moscow.
Bitterness boldly beckons and blows.
I have been dining with assassins
and success remains my only sin.