Seeing behind the mirror

Magic’s in the air
and I don’t even care
what kind of person have I become?
When nothing feels real
and I am numb
to the fire in the sky.
Locked in this tower my mind shines
but there’s an absence of the light.
Everything feels silicone as
I stand ever on my own
with the glitter epitome
everything we’ve painted gold-
platinum, dollars, burns and molds
reaping whatever you own
never travel far from home.
Magic’s in the air
but the world is dull-just there.
I shouldn’t really care
if nothing’s real or fair
human as the system, broken, caught, don’t fix it.


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