Ophelia's Memoir

We are all crumbling like algorithms of social media sites, falsetto hymns from prisoners of war, trapped behind metal bars, surrounded by false stars - a moment of forever in time capsules Television celebrities become assigned statues, representing the myth of a culture war drawn between emotional volatility Talks of unity - in a table of the burgeoise They seem so happy, emulating the poor Disgrace, might as well spit on our face and get it over with - we do it so monalisa and forget common sense As I peek through the looking glass And stomach the anxiety of being in class As an overindulgent adult trapped in the self pity syndrome Don't you know this behavior is what caused those angels to get sent home? Back in 2005, when my family carried each other like flintstones I still remember, the long march to paradise, in fact march 30 is my day of birth It was when I wanted a magician to perform, because I saw one at my cousin's function, eating gummy worms, watchimg him pulling a rabbit out of a hat, and cloth out of his mouth, it was the most magnificent thing I have ever seen These memories we codify into neurotic transmitters, insanity that is bubbling, reflecting daily PTSD in my interactions with others, We are the generation of the invisible To feel alive is a miracle It is ironic when pain is the only thing healing We scream at the sky knowing there's a glass ceiling If I could describe how I felt in simple words It would simply be living's a lie and I'm undisturbed.