Open Museum

Look at her

So sad and so frail

 

All of that mental slave work

Making her pale

 

Rocking and back and forth in a room without a roof

The wind blows

The scales move

 

Her body twitches

Her mind aches

 

But does it matter?

From the front,

All looks safe

 

Her smile is bright

And eyes fake

Florescent lights

You’re the deer

 

For you may see something painful

That enchants and make you fearful

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