My family taught me how to lie,
They said it was to survive.
But mentors they are not,
For our house is made of cards.
At least I have the darkness at my side,
An echelon of greed and pride.
I may be drowning, but that's okay,
There's no problem since I'm alive.
Grew up in a masquerade,
My entire life a set and stage.
Walk the tightrope to earn their love,
"It's all in the past, my flightless dove."
I am their perfect little doll,
Dress me up at your beck and call.
Without the fraud, I'd go insane,
Watch your step, don't go out of line,
A family will end without its pretender.
YOU ARE READING
Poesy and Prose
PuisiContaining songs, dreams, poems, and prose, this is a collection of my inner-most ramblings. When I need to unwind, I write.
