Afraid of Our Fellow ManA Poem by realmwriterWe're as fake as the plastic melting under our skin The collective imagination of a societal binge Our beauty is a mask, a lie told to us by magazines The product of industrial dreams, all fantastic schemes We live in a Barbie Doll world, where we worship fake breasts We lift weights at Gold's Gym while we pound our huge chests We know nothing of true beauty, under the façade of the Glossy Eight by Ten
We cover our blemishes and we can't even be comfortable in our own skin We are infatuated with the surface, skin deep, lustful of the pretenses Our masks hide our vulnerabilities and our true intent While reality is crumbling at our feet and we hide beneath a veneer of A glossy face shot, the airbrushed images on the cover-girl-poster-boy-pin-up centerfold We've lost sight of the aged and the gifts they hold Celebrities ride around in window tinted limousines, so they can't be seen but we're so pretty that we have to preen
The paparazzi all want the next shot for the next scandal but they airbrush that too We are so busy believing the lies that we have become afraid of the truth Camera's are as ubiquitous as grass and our privacy is all but laughable while our smiles aren't genuinely affable We post pictures of ourselves on Facebook, yet our self esteem could use a second look We talk each other up and beat each other down, but we're keeping it onehundred while hiding a frown We've become fast paced and slow witted, we're breaking the seams that our families knitted We place beauty on a pedestal and worship at its alter, but we fail to foster true beauty in our children and wonder why they falter
We listen to society and shun our parents, our role models have become degenerates We allow our little girls to dress like tramps and wear makeup and our little boys don't respect them and treat them like toys And we wonder why they cut themselves We pay movie stars and football players millions so we can entertain ourselves But we can't pay our teachers enough to educate the masses yet it's okay to collect a check and sit on our asses And our troops don't have the armor they need because of our self indulgent greed We forget about the little guy as we climb the corporate ladder to survey the sky at the top But when the s**t goes down, we can't pick up a mop We won't lift a finger to lend a hand because we're so afraid of our fellow man
© 2014 realmwriterReviews
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Added on September 10, 2014Last Updated on September 15, 2014 AuthorrealmwriterHarrison, ARAboutYou know, I can write about almost any subject, in poetic form and even an ocasional short story, but I find it most difficult to write about myself. I am an artist at heart and will use whatever m.. more..Writing
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