The Struggle

The “Look at Me” crowd rails,
Clicks equate to self worth,
Validation now means everything

Without substance, no value
Appearances of a perfect life
Their own praises they sing

In darkness words are written
Words that may be never read
Caring not the fame they bring

The writer pulls from his soul,
Sharing thoughts; his alone
They remain, lyrics no one can sing

Stoic Poetry  


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