Stuck inside a room of lies,

I am pinned with angry flies,

The stench of equivocators in full bloom,

When stuck inside this crowded room.


The hypocrisy is pollinating,

The stifling sense of placating,

The false sense of security,

Make it hard to find purity.


Will the masks ever just drop?

Will the lies ever just stop?

True forms are wonderful,

So why isn’t everyone beautiful?


Superficial looks don’t matter,

These flies and lies should just scatter,

Beauty at its basic form,

Starts as the ugliest worm.


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