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Sep 2017
A poise possessed, in unfulfilling actuality,
Longing for freedom, freedom from normality,
Quelling every bit of counterfeit congeniality,
A taste of reassurance, isolated from individuality.

Driving this jalopy, a man dressed to nines,
His undergarments ragged, camouflaged to blind,
His teeth are pearly, though the pearliness grinds,
A moment of glory, he has yet to find.

Phony fads infesting fraudulent causes,
He sits in silence, while sounding the applauses,
A bittersweet flavor of momentary diapauses,
Every year holds similarity, inevitably with menopauses.

Commitments crumbling, chafing positivity,
Vows are demolished, rebuilt with ****** proclivity,
Reputations are finagled with selfless anonymity,
As society lacks honest accountability.

A shadow he’ll reside’n, distant from sight,
While pleading for nobility and faithful delight,
To remain a man and not out of spite,
As a room filled with vultures ravage his might.
We all hide behind... what, for society.
Francis
Written by
Francis  24/M/New York
(24/M/New York)   
  481
   Lior Gavra
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