Drawn of chalk,
A figured mock.
Stands stray,
In it's portray.1
It masquerades as truth,
And the violent youth,
Come to hate,
It's violet fate.2
Young and old,
Silver and gold,
Find doubt in,
Every facet and fold.3
Your image,
Your pace.
Your marks,
Your face.4
Steal my breath,
Find it black,
In your merciless grip,
Steal it back.5
Thoughts.
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