On my soul lies a curse

It is an evil few can grasp

Granted me with a personality bright as molten gold

And wit sharp as glass

It gave me a crown, dripping with gems

And a voice that never waivers

And a conscience that never sins

But in a mirror I can see it for what it is, 

A true ironic facade 

A performance for the ages worthy of applause

I see past the smile, that melts hearts and inspires alike

I feel the timid breaths, 

The hesitant thoughts hidden behind the graceful steps 

And the anxiety attacks, that come when I’ve over slept

But to the world, all of this I am bereft

The air of calm I present, I have realized

Is every bit a part of me

Although it is a lie

A curtain by which a wizard can hide

Makes the wizard no less real

And if you marry a wench is she still a bride?

Of course

People say fake it till you make it

And few understand 

Your reflection is not a malady,

For we are who we are

And still who we want to be

So when I look at my facade

At the stranger in the mirror

I see not pretender, pretending

Or a kinless boy playing at king 

I see both sides of the curtain, 

Who I am, 

And who I’d be

And in the eyes of Gods and men

All that I am, I am me