The scarecrows are standing by

at the side of my life,

waiting for my mistakes,

watching for my downfall.

They are not the instigators,

they are the reminders.

One for every error,

each more mocking than the last.

 

Lined up in tidy rows,

their cross-hatched eyes are curious.

They enjoy the build up to my collapse

and the wait to see who is next.

Who will join the dancing line of pity and shame?

This one is yours, he holds your card

as he waits for the possible ruin to come.

Can i stop him from taking his place?

From holding your name aloft in triumph?

Or is he fated to stand beside his brethren,

puffed up and arrogant in his victory.