Envy

They smile with warmth, their words like gold,

Yet some hold daggers, sharp and cold.

A whispered vow, a friendly hand,

Can turn to dust, like shifting sand.

They cheer your rise, they watch you grow,

But envy lurks in shadows low.

A clapping hand, a knowing grin,

May hide the blade they’ll sink within.

Not every voice that speaks you high

Will catch you should you dare to fly.

Some build you up to watch you fall,

Then feign surprise—“I risked it all.”

So test the roots before you lean,

Not all that glitters shines so clean.

A loyal heart is hard to find,

Be wise—trust few, but trust them blind.