Irony at its best
The fake world that we dwell in
Shrouded in mystery
Consecrated within social norms
Gives more happiness
Than the real us
The bubble of conformity
Envelops compromises
Which are made and agreed upon
Only to feed our ego
A vent out, a let go
Only gives a clarion call
for distress
Therefore,
Truth remains behind veils
What lies beneath is known to none
Twinkling, smiling eyes,
Engrave sins of bygone
Neither noticed, nor interpreted, nor acknowledged
In its truest, purest form
Rather, onlooker finds respite in
All that is visible
Roots, deepest recesses of soul
Ignored & avoided
Thus, finding happiness
In mock-up drama
Or the circus of life
Where we all perform
In an ever prevalent form
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