The Golden Shill
I look at myself through eyes not my own
And see hope within, all colored with gold
I wonder if I this 'truth' can uphold
I wonder if I this 'self' should disown
Or should I withdraw, decline the gold throne
In striking this glance, these eyes I would scold
And do the right thing, the 'truth' be untold
And do the right thing, and gnaw my own bone
But where would they go, and who would they see
And not seeing me, what would I be next
A reed in the wind, a whisper unheard
To have what it takes, to finally free
Sheep blinded by words, in pain and perplexed
I'm only a shill, repeating these words