Reality

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We wear the mask that grins and lies.
Beneath the image is the rotten truth.
The mirror portrays a false front.
But look deeper and you’ll see
the truth is as evident as a
cigarette burn.

Our hidden thoughts a tattoo on our
stone hearts.
The words escaping our lips,
revealing only
what isn’t there.
Like a beggar
we plead to be free
from the fake persona
we have worked so hard to create.

Bodies like prison yards.
Stuck inside with only
our misery and hate for ourselves
to make us feel real.





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