What was once a bottom of a frozen lake,
With winds swirling and grazing made up faces,
Now is what everyone gawks upon for their eternal beauty,
And even though many have forgotten the sacrifices flared for perfection,
Many still stare and revoke the memories to sliver back,
Memories, which they can all share and understand frozen in time.
The scratching and skidding of sharp metal hacking through ice,
Is like shell shock repeating itself,
Young girls and boys constantly switch a position of hair,
Dreaming to be a replica of the ones who raised them,
No deep sincerity or anything trust worthy,
All because of the bottom of the frozen river,
Shows them want they wish,
But never what they really are.
Layers and layers of stiff, unbreakable ice stacked on top of each other,
Even on the warmest of days, the ice never tends to break,
Just like the owners of unrealistic beauty,
They never tend to break, never living their life,
Not when they picture the years that still race upon them,
Another trick, the deep bottom of the frozen lakes seems to master.
Peace at last, when victims eyes break the seal of glass declawing their eyes,
The last glance of the real beauty in the world,
separated from the green algae covered river,
And the mourning of yesterdays deaths...and the day before... and so on...
Another death, quickly fled past, only then does the truth reveal itself.
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