My life is art
Your life is too
Our bodies twisted sculpting
A mockery of the human form
Grotesquely with a hint of the madness of beauty
Our lives abstract theatrics
A pantomime with a childishly unforgiving audience
A gallery of ghoulish critics whose prose masks woes similar to our own
Our minds are demented free form poetry
Words and ideals that only make sense
To the author who sees and those who attempt to believe
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