The Duplicate

Born a clear slate

At outset, life taught imitate

Malleable features could replicate

Every nuance, emotion to placate

Friends, family delighted to brims

Persona superimposed by others’ whims

Sad, hurt at own lot, at initial outset

Caved slowly accepting life’s begot

Gradually true persona relegated to attic

Duplicate self strutted in forefront slick

Lost self in variegated pseudo selves thus trotted

Yet at times delved inwards searching and lamented

Emerged empty handed, original by self shredded

Sacrificed at mammon’s altar he’d willfully wedded

In terms of worldly success duplicate had all n then some

Constant throbbing heartache lingered n made him glum

Post prosperity and heady feel of world being own oyster

He now wished to reclaim lost true self, be own master

Mirror reflected stranger – original self lost in fake

Shards of various personas composed in a mosaic

Screaming in pain too late in realization glitter phony

For mending life’s guitar n create original symphony

~* ~ * ~ * ~

Your manuscript is  both good and original; but the parts that are good are not
original, and the parts that are original are not good.~ Samuel Johnson

**

What a strange vanity painting is; it attracts admiration byresembling the
original, we do not admire. Blaise Pascal – French Scientist, Religious Philosopher

 

 

 

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