The world is just one masquerade. We hide behind masks of color. The color that disguises our true self, And makes us perfect for society. No filter shows my true self. The imperfections in my face, They are no longer in a guise. They are part of me. My hair doesn't shine in the fake lighting. The hair is made of dead cells, So they are dead. Dead and limp. Nothing that will get one on a magazine. Behind the filter is someone who dreams. A dreamer that dreams of nothing but the future. A future dreamer and innovator. The filter just shows a mask. A mask that is fixed and adored. Adored for being perfect. The mask is adored, but what about the wearer? No, they are hiding their imperfections. But it doesn't matter because that isn't real. The person behind the filter is genuine. A genuine human being and not an object.