Gripe Thread Poem - because I get feelings out better with this.

Basically this morning I found out a fair bit more about a scandal involving an old friend of mine (the "you" and "man" in the poem). His influence of his lies and abuse has now spread to his ex-fiances (the "now dear friend" and "she") current relationships and mental health, and also that of a woman whom he claimed to be married to but we found out was just the creepy stalker of ... How I fit into this is that I became the communicator between a lot of parties when the "you" and "man" and "old friend" suddenly went missing about a year ago (don't worry, we found him ... in prison), and then I found out he had been spreading rumours about me, but I won't go into them. Oh and the "now dear friend" has found out her dad, who got on with this old friend, has lied to her about a load of things her entire life.

It sounds complicated. It is. Rant over. Poem begins.

You, Her and her father

There is pain to be found
As you hear the story of a now dear friend
A friend who told you the truth of a man
A man who is now not your friend
But rather led you to befriend
Your now dear friend

Lies, subterfuge, forgery and likely murder
Psychopath, maybe, sociopath, likely
Caught up in a world of suffering and misunderstanding
When you love that man who told you
Told you he had lost his child
Told you that he had been through hell
Told you he had been a political prisoner
His ankle - an injury sustained through torture
His scars - made himself through personal pain
His life - full of suffering and survival
His boasts - a struggling artist with great talent

The truth - he never had a single child
The truth - he never went to that country
The truth - he isn't even from Iceland, can't speak the language
The truth - he did not live through what you did
His art is a lie, he is a forger
Forger of nothing but being a stalker over a now shaken girl
Forger of nothing but fear by a woman who now is broken
Forger of nothing but horror of the rumours you spread
The ones you spread about her
The ones you spread about me

What was I to you but a rag in the wind?
You looked at my body and - what did you think?
In her weakness she thought herself in love
As you abused her, lied to her, stole her innocence
Told her that her father was alright
Told her that her father was a strong man
That her father was not a liar
But no, you are both two of a kind
Both forgers of lies, of sorrow and illegal actions

Now she is shaken beyond belief
After you left her out in the cold of abandonment
Now her father's lies come to fruition, to the surface
And she knows everything
We know everything
You were never an artist, but a person who copied
You were never a father, but a man who wanted pity
You were always a forger, even after your boasts
And her father - possibly a murderer
A cultist and a wife-beater
Probably a manipulator, a machochist,
A hater, a spider
And you both are liars
Will both always be liars

No wonder you got on so well