The Fake Fake is the reality which I received, It was nothing to what I perceived. Others less worthy equalled thee; But could I only remain mute; not me! Fake is the approbation received for equalling, Someday, somewhere there will be signalling. He who was destined for less, equalBut I gave up all this without any quarrel. Fake is the elation his root experienced at; Neither me nor my root could deny that. But, ‘tis my failure or my success I don’t know? It was not true now that we reap what we sow! Fake is all the glitters which came, It was only for the one who was so tame. Seemingly unknown I was unsung then, Please tell me the elation I shall when? Fake is the procession which was shown, It was a storm with which I was blown; Neither thee nor thy shall carry this To the grave; I vent give only for his.Fake is the reality which I received,
It was nothing to what I perceived.
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