Chapter 7: FAKENESS
The bags which form
Underneath my eyes
Whenever I smile,
Are they for happiness
Or happiness masked by grief ?
I wonder if this is how I am , naturally
I wonder if this is what I want to be
I wonder if I am becoming what I wanted to be.
Maybe the bags are filled with water
Pouring down whenever
I try too hard to pose.
The pictures are always forced .
Faking something needs skills
I am yet to acquire.
But in reality I am the mess
Some pictures I hide
It shows a glimpse of me.
the fakeness protects the precious reality.
Which is cherished just by me.
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