Lights flash all around.
Vaguely, you hear the sound
Of people commanding
The way you're standing:
"Do this, do that."
They always spat
Their words,
Your mind spins backwards.
I always hate
The way people dictate
All the things
As if they're kings.
It's my picture,
Why's there stricture?
I should get a say
And do things my way.
With rising bile,
For the camera I smile.
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