They say that blood runs thicker than water,
But not when the blood has been diluted,
With lies and acts of betrayal,
Not when your own blood,
Would gladly stab you in the back,
For their own personal gain,
Not when your own blood,
Would lie to your face,
With such conviction and potency,
That you felt like you had no choice,
But to believe,
To believe and accept what they say,
I know this all too well,
So what am I supposed to think
When after all of these lies and acts,
They turn around to me,
With deceiving smiles on their faces,
And tell me
That they love me?
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