Pseudo Intellectualism


Do I know what I'm talking about?

Am I filling myself with self doubt?

As I wonder around an empty loft

I feel a phantom cough;

I do not know who I am

I do not know what's going on

I do not know where I stand 

Am I just another pawn

or am I merely a man?

I don't know my life is heading 

I lie to my mother because 

the truth is what I'm dreading.

I lie behind a mask of knowledge

acting as if I have it figured out

when in all acutaulity 

I'm a small child with

a large pout.

If I pull back the covers

my mother will know that

her real position is to 

hover over her daughter's brother.

I get into a frenzy or rage because

I know with truth, freedom is

what I will be depraved.

I must leave this cage

even if it means along with me

I'll drag this stage.

I'm scared of the future and lies ahead

I hope the world will still see this 

mask as I stay undercovers in bed.


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