The Mirror's Lament Poem by Savva Emanon

The world adores the mask, not the face,
it kisses illusion, then spits on grace.
A painted smile earns its applause,
while truth stands naked, breaking laws.

We tailor lies to fit the trend,
then call them virtues, just to blend.
But honesty walks a lonely mile,
barefoot, bleeding, without a smile.

The real are crucified by ease,
their hearts too loud, their souls too free.
The fake are crowned in gilded chains,
their laughter hollow, perfumed with pain.

Oh, how the stage has flipped its light!
We praise the shadow, curse the bright.
Authenticity, our modern sin,
where mirrors weep, and masks begin.

Yet I'll take truth, raw and scarred,
its beauty burns, but heals the heart.
For when the false have had their hour,
the real will rise and reclaim power.