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Stereo-Type


I am ‘Stereo-Type’.
And that’s where I begin
Living up to my name.
I am the type that runs in stereo.
Until someone finds another friend of mine.
Who, by accident and coincidence,
Happens to go by the same name.

What is it when you know that your picture,
The picture that descends in display to the world.
Hides behind your masterpiece,
An understatement hoping to be unfurled.

It’s ME.
You tell the world, through words and all else,
All that you aspire to make the world believe.
You create me,
You nurture me.

You repeat the refrain, and I grow vain,
You make the clamoring millions see me.
But it’s nature’s command, that only thou shall see,
Right through all your make-believe.
You play my card through and through,
By going on being what you think the world approves...
Oh! I feel used!
But I thrive on it,
Yes, I thrive on it.
I am your public face,
Your ambient masquerade.
How powerful you are through me!
And yet as powerless.

A poet, a jock, a shirker or a ‘jerk’,
A clown or a ‘nerd’, or the leader of a herd?
It’s all me!
For when I’m gone,
Thou only shall remain.
The defeated enigmatic fairy,
That only you can be.
Plain, fortunately and unfortunately,
For just yourself to see.

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