Impressive in your eyes I seem,
but more Impressive yet are you
who believe in my life so vague,
filtered to exclude the truth.
My anxious fingers produce
what I hope pleases you.
I try to keep myself alive, but
by this Beast I am consumed.
In the belly of the Beast I lie
with my fears, my tears,
the keloid Scar across my arm,
the Drugs I quit to come so far,
the Psych Ward in which I was forced to stay,
and lay and pray until I found the Lord.
The Beast only bares its 4.0,
the Trophies that you admire like gold,
the Meals that feed its appetite,
for your sight, your approval,