"False Teeth"

I’m contemplating to run,

Away from an unloaded gun,

And I’ll transcend above this season,

To create the only shattered reason

That locked up the plastic dream,

Where the dreadful doesn’t seem

To mirror a perfect picture

Of a bountiful, yet simple rapture,

That’s unsure with the countless minds

Outsides the groveling one that finds,

That if he were to take,

A poignant glance that’s fake,

He will acquire chance by choice,

With skepticism in his voice.

And outnumbered ideas don’t stick,

To anomalies that always trick

You into, believing that is written,

But, by whom was the confused one bitten?

And I fail to suppress true cries,

Beneath all of these unsound lies.

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