These times are clouded by impenetrable facades;

Captivated by the immaculate charades.

Foreseen by those that are watching in awe,

As they stand only to be cursed and decay.

 

A puppet put up in front, as if to turn others away.

Instead there is nothing to it but a smile.

So why can they not see that they’ve been led astray?

Life regulates the falsehoods the same as strolling for the mile.

 

This puppet only hides the person who is afraid,

Afraid of the times and the changes in the brain.

Crafted out of the current stage, described as vane.

The lack of direction made it more than hard to be sane.

 

Stepping out, it’s clear who is seen.

Someone who can be sweet, caring, and full of dreams.

How can a path be lost if it was never set?

Only when trying to follow a predetermined beam.

 

It’s difficult crafting a path of your own,

And even harder if you find some stone.

Persistence is key to reaching those dreams.

That puppet again will never be seen.