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I watch as you play
the game,
a strategy gauged
to prove you are
the polished 
good person you
present to the world.
The underlying fear
of knowing your own 
truths is more intriguing 
than your facade.
I long to peel the thickened
layer of practice 
and see the raw stacks
of your context bared,
to watch as your eyes
and mind recognize
you are as flawed 
as the rest of us.


Categories: Poetry