I sit inside a darkened room
Surrounded by familiar gloom.
Under the door I see a crack,
But gusts of wind do blow it black.
Your face is not a mask removed,
But sketch all drawn with lines anew.
I see you form before my eyes;
A creature born of compromise.
Dichotomy of good and bad
Lies twisted in this selfish land
Where people live life to consume.
I sit here in my darkened room.
~ C. Spies
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