Flattery and scorn, they share a face,
Both whispers that shift in the same space.
One sings of your grace, a soft-spoken charm,
The other, a sting that brings subtle harm.

Yet neither is truth, neither is real,
Both twist to manipulate what you feel.
For flattery lifts with false, empty praise,
And scorn drags you down in a clouded haze.

Two sides of a coin, their worth is the same,
Tools of the tongue in a delicate game.
But beyond their facade, there's a truth to be known—
Flattery and scorn are mere masks that are shown.