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've set aside hope, like yesterday's toys,
what my heart harbors, my ego destroys.
I'm a question posing as an answer;
both a catalyst and an enhancer,
I treat hypocrisy as a cancer.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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