The Truest of Colors

The storyteller is me
From beginning to end
Watch as I decode the secrets, with simply this paper and pen
The mask that you ever so perfectly have stitched and painted on
With my flames, it will all melt
In the flash of an eye, behold the truth that you deny
All in the palm of a stranger's hand, mine
Let me tour you through the ever so dysfunctionally world, my own
Where the grass is greener, there are no sticks and stones
To hurt you, my sweet soul
I know you despise life, you see it as forever dull
But beyond these realms of my deepest desires
What you see will either melt your heart or set your mind on fire
As my imagination bleeds, so do I
Eyes to see, blind sighted with those two is all you'll ever be
A puppet you are and I your puppeteer
As you prance and dance ever so emotionless
To know what the average does not, do not fear
Intimidated by the unknown
Which is why I don't belong in the picture perfect image you create
I am the shadows of all the promises we both forgot to make
Behind burnt picture frames is where I lay my head to rest
All is forgiven, I know none of you will forget
These rhymes of mine nothing but a mind game for you
But for me, this is my definition of awakening
You continue to assure yourself this is no dream
I will find peace

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