Ode to Subway

March 8, 2012
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Her eyes are low, piercing the glass
Never satisfied with what she has
Yearning to hide the imperfections
Flaws is all she sees in the reflection

A thick mask she plasters on her face
Her blemishes she wishes she could erase
Her heart screams from her internal war
Invasion of the soul, originating from her core

Everlasting pain. Endless grime.
Is it worth it? The reward is just a fix and a quick dime.

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