The Writers' Circle

To the outside world they are helpful, cheerful, solicitous,
Bend over backwards to give. Are admired by all, 
Even their prey. Fail to see a control freak who dominates.
Minds ruled by an abusive anger 
Victim and oppressor have become entwined as one 

A swift tongue shields their fears
Their actions are justified by grievances accumulated over years
Reasoning with them is like planting corn in an arid desert. 
Never ashamed to wring secrets from their victim,
Are overly inquisitive by simply being "nice".
Be mindful for all they gleaned are turned over in their twisted minds. 

They never forget to be sweet when their victim is needed 
To shore up, a shrinking ego. Are quick to unleash restless demons
When control slips an inch from their grasp, 
simple words become grave insults. In their lone world,
They crave admiration but feel abandoned and grieve
Imagined loss. Never finding answers for questions they crave 
They seethe inside like demons. And unleash 
Rage on simple beings like you and me. 

They suffered in their youth they claim; and now we are stuffed into their world. 
Where outsiders see only the good. Where we must accept the unsavoury as norm
Where we become the mirror through which they see themselves.
We shroud their tracts, make good their wrong. 

One, a twisted mind; the other is but guileless optimist.

Caught up! 
Scream! Is just a noise in my head.