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Roses are red
Violets are blue
My name is Nick
But for some odd reason
Some call me Nickypoo
Who am I
Behind the filter of a picture
I am a man with very much to remember
I have a story that is not yet over
Black man living past 18 is the luck of a 4 leaf clover
The story that is not told
Through an Instagram lens its often hard to see the bigger picture
Every post is worth a thousand words
And some of them are meant to injure
Where did what's right and what's beautiful become so intertwined?
When did I becomed defined only by my jaw line?
Why does #MasterCleanse and #LookingThin appear more than #Eating and #LetLoose?
I am everything I could ever ask
When time flits away my inner beauty thrives
Guiding me to the infinite fountains
So who is the man in the mirror?
The real one- you know? The one behind the filter
hidden away, disquised
because no matter how hard he tries...
There is something different--
Sometimes, my teeth seem slightly rotten with a honey residue considering, weekends I forget to brush,
Or how my hair waves in this condescending way when I clinch my fist together.
Snap !
Zoom, get centered more, then delete.
Twenty to fifity shoots until we get the one that is unique.
Taking photos for others to critique.