The Bitter Truth

We are not whom we seem to be.
We are not even the people we claim to be.
Our persona, our façades represent us daily.
The only time that we are ourselves is when we are mainly
Deep in sleep or in mourning.
Whom am I kidding?
Come morning,
Come pretense, the damned torments!
We dress ourselves in expensive garments;
We wear confidence in persistence.
Smiles are fake continually;
We wear pretense gradually.
It is exhausting!
And the crowd is equally exhausting.
We march on to the 'stage';
We refuse to turn over the next page.
Our bodies are forever on set;
We are in the character that they met.
We live the life we make;
We enjoy being fake.