The price of fame;
What's in a name?
Feverishly gearing up your act;
Not knowing what rules to enact.
You keep looking into the mirror;
As you rehearse your lines with all vigour;
Knowing that deep down in your soul,
You have missed the mark with just a meal in a bowl.
You know, you have sold your soul to deception;
And there is just a thin line between reality and imagination!
You let the very essence of who you ought to be, go;
just for a moment of faded glory, and now you say no!
Yet there is One Who still knows and grieves;
For by His stripes we are healed!
His Love and Scars are a reminder of His Sacrifice;
So don't let it be in vain even in your lingering demise!
Poem written by Ewoma.
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