You find it hard to stop and look at the faces of a staircase you’ve abused to take you places.

Popularity is the corruption to the pleasers, their mouths ran dry as the spit to make your shoes shine dissipates and now it only glistens with the overarching sense of neutrality, dispose of these servants that served the purpose as you seek out the higher ground using all the worn out plastic smiles as a staircase to your selfish agendas, 

Hear the echoes of the thank you covered in contempt reverberate across the souls of your feet, smother the lips with every step of your ascention, as you maintain eye contact with a starless sky to avoid seeing the footprints left on the faces of those you deemed unworthy of you to survive,

The further you reach the more distortion the world below your feet unravels, your words that once anchored themselves to the souls of the ones that once were a part of the ground of which your walk was worshiped are now filled up with nothing more then the sound of empty echoes.