Early morning truth reflects itself perfectly, without fear of being seen.
It is only a lie that fears its own reflection.
Poem, poetry, humanitarian, racism
“Beyond what is seen, lie shadows by which all things operate.” -beth
A body of cloth,
heads hollow, designed to be fitted over and over, manipulated by the hand.
They are all an extension of the another.
They follow what has already begun.
They enforce what the other has made possible.
They are the puppets to another’s desire,
They are the story to an already written plot.
Puppets pulled by different strings.
The same cancer, just a different strain.