On his face
His screen glows
Luminous eyes and a luminous nose
There is a film that covers
His face so bright
So no one knows what’s truly in sight
He takes on a form in front of the screen
That those who know him will know isn't clean
He morphs to be like others on his screen.
And people see him off the screen
A man with no image, no purpose to be seen
Instead, this is what he makes himself to be:
Here we have a man
A perfect face, a perfect life
A perfect dog, a perfect wife
But hidden inside himself is strife
Strife that only comes to life
When the film is gone
And this light
That makes his face so bright
Can change it in an instant with no might
His smile comes only
From being entranced in the light
And when darkness comes, the smile fades slowly.
With a fading smile,
Comes his fading life,
With his perfect dog and wife
Tears stream down,
With an ominous glow
Different from the one we see that shows.
Here, in the quiet of the night
the real face becomes raw.
It’s cracking, it's breaking, turning black and white.
All from the pressures it hid from, then saw.
This face is now torn, like it was cut with a knife
Fragile and exposed for only one to see.
No one else understood him, his real life.
How could he make them see?
His wife and his dog didn't know,
and frankly, neither did he.
He's been on his screen since 17
When he was carried away in a limousine
and from his riches and fame
his dog, his house, and his beautiful wife
Came, and all for him.
He got everything he wanted.
But here, in the quiet of the night,
He’s alone.
He's reaching for it to come back to life,
but it’s dissipating before his glassy eyes.
And now he’s too late.
Here we have a man with riches and fame,
wanting to be like someone else in this “artificial game”.
How ironic, how lame.
And the one emotion left, after all that was drained,
Is shame.
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