Is there anything beneath?
Any word beyond the script?
Isn’t all of this a skit?
Some sort of cartoon.
Suddenly teared off the stage’s curtains
just to see this world’s recursions.
Every veil of deceit,
the mirror of a need.
And since it’s true that all of the nations
are ridicule in some fashion,
the same pattern repeats
among all times and breeds.
Everything turns quickly into satire.
Inertial force drives the matter
in a void of mislead
one’s self lost out of reach.
Is there anything beneath the costume?
Is it empty slate when the script’s assumed?
Isn’t anyone some sort of cartoon?
