Perfect Picture
Perfect picture seen abroad,
How it looks is a fraud.
The sun sets on rose colored grass
As we pretend its a few in past.
Time and money grow into last
As we rush forever fast.
Love isn't found where we are bound,
But resentment an anger can be found.
The perfect pictures that we paint
Shows you that we were never saint's.
Glory an fame shows you lies
But for us, its only us who dies.
Smiles for the camera
Shades of pink,
I'll have one more drink.
Together you must think
That riches and gold
was how we were sold.
The lives we live are not what you think...
Copyright © Anita Harris | Year Posted 2019
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