Nobody is perfect, yes?
Why then do we cover ourselves
In illusions of filters and features
Hide our faults in saturation
And spend hours pondering over
The lines that go with it.
With mirrors becoming our BFFs
And the front camera constantly open,
Facing hell to put up the right angle
But portraying we're in heaven.
What kind of warped species are we?
With images photoshopped
And captions begging you to
Embrace your true self.
We've become self-contradicting,
We seek attention long enough
To tell the world we want none of it.
Always so close
Yet so far away from the truth.
YOU ARE READING
Echo of Thoughts
PoetryPoetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that hurt. It is a matter of life not just a matter of language... Breathe in experience, breathe out poetry....
