Still Smiling

It's a risky game we all play,

Doing thing for another, for which we might pay,

In terms of peace, which we might regret on that day,

The day the true colours come out, and they drift away,

It's just the curse of the human brain,

The pace at which its interests change,

Which gives another person so much pain,

Sometimes it's not even in the human resistance range,

But then the person learns their lessons again,

Just look at the way fate plays out, strange,

One day we laugh and enjoy, the next, we face our bane,

Getting under our skin like a infection, call it mange,

But I'll keep it short and sweet like my possible departure,

From the person's life, forever altogether,

Because as I see it, dishonesty is the father, 

Of an unhappy soul, so I'll end it here with the load as light as a feather