Photoshop


There’s always a price to be paid
Keeping in tow, stepping in line
We’re all safe in here, we like to believe
Puppet strings being pulled, we feel just fine

We’re told what we should feel
Overdosed and diagnosed to hide our scars
We’re too busy pouting, taking selfies
To even begin to consider who we really are

Molding our self image on magazines
Photoshopped to absolute perfection
Till we can’t stand just what we’ve become
And we loathe our very own reflection

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