Every day I wake up, and when I look up in the mirror

I wonder and I think if my true self is becoming clearer

Because apparently my whole life is completely filled with filters

Every type is a personality, sewn in me, like I’m a quilter

But it looks like the stitching isn’t really good, I suppose

Because it wasn’t me who did it, it was the filters my friends chose

Buying all these apps and products just to look more appealing

But in hindsight, in reality, I think that I’m concealing

Who I really am

Reading all of these negative comments, but it’s really just spam

Unfriend them, block ‘em, do whatever it takes

Before all of these filters consume you, and you begin to ache

It begins in your body, and rises up to your face

Thinking about your appearance so much you try to become a different race

Without filters, you’re nothing, you think you look horrid

But have pride in your looks, because you’re actually very euphoric

You were made by God, in his image and in his likeness

Having people pay for your looks, but you’re priceless

So try out that post with no filter, see how it works out

And you’ll never regret that picture of the true you, no doubt

This poem is about: 
Our world


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