Imitation of Life
Imitation of Life
They clap for the enactment, never knowing
The actor/actress forgot their own identity long ago.
One smiles the smile the script is showing,
A toy with nowhere else to proceed.
The Imitation breathes, it bleeds, it charms- but
The authentic one expired somewhere in one's arms, strangled by the need to be what they see, as that looks real, but just an Imitation of life
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