Market

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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