'The Factory Of Faces.' Poem by dev banerjee

Someone pretends and,

Some do not sometimes.

Living here-in the city of shadows,

We all act too phonily;

And benevolently fake.

Falling as a prey to fit into,

Just failing to feel our;

Prescribed roles irrespectively.

Ending to live with the reminiscent residuals,

Of a pseudo life;

That's left in our hands.

Where every breath taken is,

A subject to fade and decay.

And ultimately will cease itself,

Proving to be dead someday.

As fooling me,

It only fools you;

Fooling all of we,

It just befools us.

FAces frolic and,

Faces here grieve.

Hiding so many latent tears,

Under one camouflaged smile.

In factory of faces,

As any factor to freak.

FAces rejuvenatedly rekindles here,

FAces burst getting furious in empty rage.

Shielding their innermost fears,

Underneath endless unsheathed agonies.

And it makes me turn each pebble,

To roll every stone.

In factory of faces,

As any factor to freak.

Because here in this dilemma,

A multi-faceted cinema.

I've sold my cosmetic plastics,

Had already hung my shoes.

To walk under the same Sun,

One pale silver crystal Moon;

Under the same blue sky and all stars.

Standing completely naked,

Vulnerably bare;

And invariantly rare.

Ooh! In this dilemma,

A multifaceted cinema.

I've torn my canvases boozingly,

Have brushed them to be Blue.

Lying on the same mud,

One Earth;

And the Mother of all.

Ooh! I'm completely naked,

Vulnerably bare and invariantly rare.