Expression

I am guilty of artistic expression
Since it is against the law
My hands are delinquent and raw
Free speech is a dream
But even dreams dry and die
Like leaves in the fall
Personas are masks painted by depression
All true thoughts are imprisoned by repression
The world is as porcelain as grandma's collection
Rosy red cheeks, a desirable trait
Roses are red
So are the devil's eyes
And his native tongue is Lies
He's narrator to most lives
See, we are all somewhat like spies
We wish to act on our own desire
But we must remain in disguise