(no subject)

[dailydementia]

I was thinking of a traitor,
Just a traitor of the mind.
A construct of my dreaming
In a world I'd not defined.

I thought his scheme was petty
And his role was nothing new.
His unveiling lacked all style;
It was clear he was untrue.

But mocking his disgrace
The joke is still on me,
For if the thug lives in my head
It means that I am he.