Poison

We may share the same blood but our fate differs as each road cracks and crumbles but with variance. Are not all eyes the same until gazed up upon spilled lies and secrets that intended to be swept right underneath where we sleep? They never expect us to chock on the fear our lives are just part of a sequence that we can't change unless we break from the track, the track that seems so routine and customary that when a man separates from his already pegged path people stare with daggers for eyes and speak with tongues drenched in venom like the thing they don't understand is the one spreading poison.