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Sep 2017
Her mind is pushed to the limit,
A hoarse whisper it will permit,

To the very extent,
Alienated in her own body,
A fleeting shadow across the pavement,
Surreal, just like a nobody,

Puppets in a masquerade ball,
With heavy make-up & dressing,
To compensate, a mind's steep fall,
Sirens, beauty's trickery harnessing,

Their talk, walk & life the same,
Striving for unattainable bliss,
For joy & money, a losing game,
The costume perfect, her mind'll miss,

The old ignorant untamed self,
With flashy smiles & well-timed nods,
The simple, the complicated do engulf,
Like a morning alarm, the tiny voice again prods.
Inspired by observation. © Megan Parson 2017
Megan Parson
Written by
Megan Parson  21/F/India
(21/F/India)   
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