Imprisoned in the trudge for esteem,
Pestered by fabricated smiles and habits.
Drained by censure stares and disgracing laughs.
Franticly falling, false benevolence lifts you.
Ignorantly losing the beauty you once had.

At ease with the thought of acceptance.
Although, silently perplexed by off actions.
Their words you speak causes disrupted faces.
Remorse over throws your once innocent conscience.
You’ve climbed shallow into a deceiving Highland.
It is a trap! Turn around while you can!
Never again! March back where you came from.
Now this trail is gold! How may I know? You ask for.
Well, wistfully who hasn’t been through this self-war?