How pricey, Pretense turns out to be,
when its skin grows on you;
you are groomed in its shadow
in plastic appearances,
when there is only seething animosity
your mask puts up a friendly show
how much it eats into your being
to please, propitiate, placate
to keep up the civility of a social being
to be in camouflage, till your needs nestle in that living
you strive to conform than confront;
You fit in to be the crowd than becoming lone
If only I could make myself see
How hollowed out, I have become
In pretending what I am not meant to be!
No comments:
Post a Comment