Ever wondered
if the finger in my
photo
was my third finger
No
it
isn't.
It is
my
fourth finger.
My lucky fourth finger
With my lucky line
It throbs
Oh no

I want a world
full of rich people
who fulfills their every needs
not
succumbing to
pregnant egos
consternating sadism
******
terror
inferior complex
I want a world full of happy people
With great big smiles
That comes from deep within
And off their faces
People who
genuinely care
genuinely loves
If we had a world like that,
I would never be in a
tangled spider web
where every direction I look
I see terror's menacing eyes
And opportunities' menacing glances
Into the
scary
impending future

It's been so long
But I still don't get
Why you had to call me
Fake

Being fake
Is not being true,
Not genuine,
An imitation,
A counterfeit.

Am I really one of those?
I don't think so.

I'm original.
I breathe
I eat
I sleep
I'm human too.

I hold my own name
Hold my own thoughts
I live my own life
How is that not true?

You'll win
If you find someone else
Exactly like me
With
The same name
The same face
And the same actions.

Before all that
I'll tell you first
You do judge people
Like you judged me.

You've got no right to call me
Fake

I'm human
And so are you
If I'm fake
Then you are too.

I want to go back
To the days
When there were
No attention-seekers
No heart-breakers
No back-stabbers
When everything
Was simple
Was fine
Was alright.

Maybe it's you
Maybe it's me
Whatever it is
It can't be we.