Fake

The immature habits make a grown girl cry, Half a smile covering a shameful lie, Eager deception like those of the black pearl curse, Like plastic surgery or a knock-off purse, Intentional big head full of arrogance used to smother, Evil, only cares for himself, never for another, Sends a cold prickle up your spine from just one touch, His words and actions are excuses used as a crutch, Effective like a leech leading you into its cult, Like a cockroach never coming to a halt, Indestructible, down the aisle five times, with no signs of stopping, Every retold story not in his favor would undergo cropping, Someday karma will finally give him what he deserves.