Reality of Vanity Vanity is the hallmark of the meek and powerless. They cry for good opinions of themselves Not being able to set their own value
Time has scoured my beauty, too many days have passed. The glow of youth is waning, my time is in the past.
I spend my days imagining, what others think of me. Consumed with self indulgence, no time is left to be.
At night I dream of special ness, Alone all tucked in bed. Filled with mindless visions, Awakened morning dread
Excessive pride surrounds me, silent deadly sin reigns. Visions whirl within me, modesty I cannot feign.
Reality now is not good enough, caricature is real. Exaggeration necessary, for me to really feel.
Raw glamour rarely happens, except inside my head. Continual confirmation, is what I need I said.
from the need to be perfect. Approval of others, from which I cannot escape.
to kill my addiction to the sweetness of compliments. To be fully realized, my final days content.
Terry A. Tincher |
