Inconspicuous
I'm a whisper in the wind, shouting out,
mocked by reality, I'm plagued by doubt,
struggling to grasp what life is all about.
Rendered inconspicuous as white noise
I set dreams aside, like yesterday's toys:
hopes my heart harbors, my ego destroys.
I'm a question, posing as an answer;
both a pragmatist and an enhancer;
I treat hypocrisy as a cancer.
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