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This Is My Reply

You never ask

And always take

You never give

Were always fake

The plums

You ate

In the icebox

Were cursed

A parting meal

Say Farewell

Spiteful one

You are full

They’re the last

Of any plums

None from me

Or anyone

That icebox

Is a portrait

No soul

Sad face

Narcissists get none

Literature is premature

A spoiled child

Without love

So  heartless

Inverted mirrors

Scares you

You are nothing

Some plums

Are real plums

Some plums

are fake like you

Some gems

Are real gems

Some gems

Are soul-less

Some hearts

Are real hearts

Some hearts

Are just dark

Some poems

Are nice poems

Some poems

Tell us more

More is less

Less is code

Your codes

Are too visible

Traceable

Vivid

Transparent

Obvious