Stop,
Pretending,
to be someone,
Who is as grand as you,
Some,
Are born,
Never doubting,
Most must turn their hearts,
Inside out,
to see the Truth,
Airs are only empty pride,
Hollow disbelief in oneself,
and Angels cry,
For a lie,
Is to Deny,
Your birthright.

You cannot reach,
your dreams alone,
and if you're not a trust fund baby now,
Stop,
Pretending.

The world of God holds you up,
And wants to feed you better fare,
Your Own,
Skin,
Will feel,
A thousand times more beautiful,
If,
You stopped,
Pretending.