A compliment lands gently, like autumn leaves
Falling for the ground, not themselves.
It wears no agenda, carries no price,
Isn\'t waiting for applause or permission.
Flattery, though, is a slick salesman,
Smiling with polished teeth,
Borrowing kindness as currency,
Debt-laden words dressed in sugar.
A compliment seeks to lift,
To shine a mirror brighter than regret,
To offer without asking,
To pause long enough for gratitude to bloom.
Flattery asks to be repaid before it rests.
It laces its tongue with expectation,
Not a gift, but a trade,
A handshake that squeezes too tight.
So listen for the space it leaves
Does it echo with ease or demand?
Because not all beautiful words
Are meant for you.