Duplistic Detection

Is deception a love left in disguise?
Chipped porcelain, alone may crack;
Transcend your filthy, guilty trap;
We all point down instead of up

But can we stitch a broken cup?
Can we organize this intricate muck?
With our vows, our morals we chuck
Slithering through the grassy fields

Suppose we dent those hefty shields
What hate we owe, love yields
So is it good customs you seem preach?
Or try to drown us in toxic, verbal bleach?