Jealousy’s Dead King.

I know who my friends are,
and also who they aren’t;
I see those who take the heed,
and I see the ones that won’t;
I feel the people who try to steal,
away what isn’t theirs’ to take;
I hear the ones who never mean,
a single promise that they make;
I touch the hands of many,
both the wicked and the good;
I taste the wishes and secret desires,
of the least expectant that I would;
I sense the misrepresentations,
belonging to faces of those I’ve believed;
I’ve held the lies and deceit in my palm,
while the mouth tried to find them to speak;
I am not blind to the inner-workings of envy,
and the ways that its evil unfolds;
I was marked by Jealousy’s Dead King,
back in my own days of old;
Do not think that my big heart is a target,
because its dark surfaces hold bright red within;
do not think you will come up on my weakness,
of still managing to live like a decent human;
For all of your troubles and scheming,
will land you long and far from me;
my great, big heart holds no room inside,
for the many wanna-be’s of true humanity.