Guilty Conscience Poem by rains of bloom

she stands beside a windowsill
her actions on display
her smile is genuine
her eyes of glass are fake.

her tongue is a torch
easily set aflame
flammable meterial
but they believe her innocent
to be quick to acclaim.

her teeth are swords
causing others pain
bleeding wounds of aching
rendering victoms lame.

her throat is an instagator
feeding the flames
causing the fire
but one who is not blamed.

her lips of red revealing
blood spilled by her tongue
they blame it on the hands
but the guilty tune was SUNG

they say blood is in the hands
their excuses are in vain
say they do before they think
but i just laugh at thier game.

the hands are the victoms
unable to decide
instruments to the tune
who are not instantly relied.

the mouth is the predeter
the hands the victimized pray
the mouth has the blood
which keeps the pain at bay.

the tongue is the enemy
instantanliously to decieve
the one who is the causer of pain
the one who attack the nieve.