young and dumb, moth drawn to the flame

Do I make you proud,

When I make you look good in the eyes of the world?

Does it help erase the sins you commit,
Because you’re able to paint a different picture in the eyes of your accusers,

When I play the part you need?

Do you think we don’t know the story you play out in this twisted fantasy
Twisted reality we cannot deny,

Do you know we all cam to play the parts assigned?

All to help you play pretend jut a little while longer,
Because what are we if not all fools for the same cause,
Moths drawn to their death flame and loving every minute of it.

I was so young when I saw the truth,

A covered glance and dusty texts of desperate measures,
Thank you for airing out these grievances, when everyone but you brought them to light,
Then, locking them in the doubt of darkness for as long as I sought answers.

I thought myself a fool, the only one left, who saw something more in you,

But I was the best at fooling myself,
Because I knew there was no hope, no more reasons why to help save you from this fate,

And I can’t even be mad at it,

Do I still make you proud?

For rebelling against your lies and darkness,
And forming my own path, bursting in the light and golden bricks of the road paved…
All down the yellow brick road,
We’ll find the truth somewhere in the land of fantasy…

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