Faking. Faking. Faking.
Are we all hiding behind a collective cloak of lies?
When you’ve stripped away all that rings true when you
identity what defines you, is what’s left vanished into the dust?
Does a flower pretend to be a tree? Will be a bee stop a
sting for tea?
The zebra knows its stripes. Or does it?
Is a mirror a reflection of ourselves, or perhaps a collage
of all that should not be?
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