As i walk in the room, I can see their eyes looking at me, their mouth whispering like the wind that blows across the room. A rummer so not true and yet so believable, that a person's mind will believe it too.
So when I say it is not true, no one, not a soul will look at me. slowly they turn away, as they make my life a living hell.
when will they believe in me. when I'm lying in my grave, dead.
