Who am I to you

 
 
  We often create many of things  
 To fulfill our needs, synthetically  
 I’ve read people want a real deal
 The sun and moon appear, real  
 Or is their existence real enough,  
 To see as real but in reality, false?  
 Now days, its easy to be mislead  
 By other people within our heads
 But are people what they portray,
 Or are we distorting their image,  
 If it's us, who should we blame?  
 Today, I can’t help but feel as if  
 I’m really just another guy upon  
 The field of the place we call life
Am I- being toyed with like others
 As some sort of ruse or substitute
 To fulfill a distortion in someone  
 Else’s conception of...ourselves?  
 
 
 Poet of the Light ©  2020  
     
 
 
   
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