Should I, should I, accept the change in me?

Resist improvement sighted by others?

Drink from divine waters, shine like marquees?

But the waters are unsightly buffers!

I read and comprehend my role in life

Being told what to say and what to do

I must become the queen of the beehive

Facades I must put on to carry through

Immoral and upsetting incidents

I create to fuel my adrenaline

Gimmicks I play are not quite evident

Should I confess about my medicine?

Although the change is considered betrayal

I will display myself on the table