It occurs to me that I haven't made a post in a while so I'm going to try writing a poem about not caring about physical appearances off the top of my head before I go to bed.
Here we go.
Luminous Beings
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Can we ever get over it all?
Nothing left for us here.
Nothing but masks.
For who could deny
That we all live with our lie?
Nobody exempt.
The inescapable human condition.
Luminous beings are we,
Not this crude matter.
Tell it to your friends,
You're mad as a hatter.
At the end of the day,
The closing masquerade.
All we really have,
Is ourselves.
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