Masks

mask

Everyday we abstain from our morals

Credulous souls trapped in blighted shells
Controlled by men enshrouded behind masks
Led by their need to obfuscate our lives
Repudiate the blame nothing is gained
I’m bored in deep tedium by their performance
or lack there of
No one feels remorse
Caught in an endless cycle of lachrymose
Time is running out the door
We have a plethora of people with no meaning
No means to make it out alive
to make it to the end
and try as they might
They’re still controlled by those men
Men who hide behind their haughty masks.
Atlas

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