There is something inside me
that wants to meet the real me
Wistfully passing a mirror
there I go
Conscientiously primping in a mirror
Can’t I just be Me?
As the wood creaks
the House settles
Each time a photo requests ransom
Was that the real Me?
There is something inside me
There is something inside me
that may need to remain unseen
What vulture takes the bad
and leaves the good for someone else
Though who can tell which is which
when all is but a slab of meat
and a voice
as a recording
Will I ever feel Hunger?
