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With a gust of air, you blow our minds,
with your loaned swag
Your style's a brag, you life's a rug
Still, we node our heads in deep
worship to the dose of your repudiation
You bought yourself a high status, just
for mere acceptance
And you were left disposed of your real
personality,
Just for a sheer popularity?
But when we snap back to reality,
there's a void inside your heart,
A broken girl, with a lot insecurities
cries out
Craving a simple and faultless life,
For underneath all that glamour, there's
a vacuous and enstranged soul

— The End —