The cool of night caressed
My feeble attempt to lie
My fear of light revealed
In a soft transparent cry
No one cared to hear it
The selfish only take
My voice ignored, so silent
Their outer shell, so fake
A world with idols innumerable
They are worshipped, they are lauded, they are lust
Their narcissism remains incomprehensible
They are vacant, they are cold, they are dust
But the oppression will not endure
Their images will become as frail as glass
The painted veil once solid and secure
Is torn away as time threatens to pass
As their gilded lives begin to decay
My genuine self will become alive
My voice will be heard and I will not betray
For in my true skin I will finally lie
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