Always a product paraded in my face
Sometimes I become the item sold
My thoughts and opinions on the marketplace
Told to sell my art souring my words cold
It's all manufactured and scripted story lines
Jewelry stores selling fake gems and artificial designs
My soul cut into profitable pieces
my wallet the prize in open warfare
leaving my soul hollowed out clean
Wondering if anything is left to just be there
Not sold or owned and not hollow
Just beauty alone with no button to follow
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