Mental Connections

They say
Fake it until you make it
Yet, I'm no savior
For that my conscious knows
The world is unjust,
That my words are
Sugarcoated with words.
Everyone postulates pretensiously
Not knowing the vicissitudes,
They hurt to see you bleed outside
For they are anemic, inferior,
They bleed your blood.
They say
Fake it until you make it
Today I am who you perceive;
Painted faces occupied with me.