Mind misery,
the throb of solitude.
My time is saturated with insincere buffoonery.
I spend my days being something which I am not.
Coifed by a false mien.
The fabrication must be removed,
but who will I let scrutinise my values?
Or will they probe themselves, in a search for truth?
So many possibilities, fear thread throughout.
short but sweet, can relate to it. I think we share some things in writing, would love to hear your opinion about some of my stuff
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