Mortified
I,
walk among the zombies
rotting in an unfathomable ghetto,
thrust ‘neath lifeless golden bricks,
drenched in crimson hues
of survival.
She,
dressed in disgrace,
gyrates to an ugly music,
painting his evenings in sordid colors!
What have they done to you,
Oh my Modesty!!
A desperate light flickers high above.
Unattainable.
Blind.
Does your fumbling feeble mind remember me?
I was once known as Honesty.
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