Everyone has an angle some sort of scheme or plot, when you think something appears so real it's most likely not.
Snakes in the grass waiting in their garden of misery, slick with their words so good with their trickery.
No good deed goes unpunished that's what they say, why does this happen why do the good always pay?
It's twisted and backwards but thats how it seems to go, everyone has an angle it's a matter of time before it will show.
They try and hide their motives smiling in your face, keeping your enemies close thinking this will ultimately win the race.
But in the end good will always prevail, those angles become dead ends and at their own game they will fail.
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This poem is about people and their ulterior motives.