Thought I was old enough
To have fought for a place
in my profession,
but I wasn't.

I merely held a place
that other generations
had gained.

Said you like my hair color,
was it mine,
but it wasn't.

My colorist is just
really good and
I go often.

Its all just an illusion.
Made up of thoughts.
A careful smile,
A gentle, undeserving
Acceptance of credit
But I appreciate you.