I feel the mysterious paint dripping down like a cape

Containing the worlds lies that I thought I could escape

Masking the truth that keeps me from my fate

too much poverty, lack of care, and presence of hate

Mysterious paint sticks but it sticks like tape

maybe we need a calvary before it is too late

so we can change how we live to live in good shape 

because evil has its color and the nation's greed is the paint

Guide that inspired this poem: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741