willow:

Don’t you see?

My body was born for rebellion.

From the moment I willed it to become a willow

and it grew to be an oak.

Try as you might, nature doesn’t obey.

That’s the irony, its all masks.

Crooked smiles, plastered on.

I can’t be the only one to feel disgusted.

Tell me how you learned to hate,

while clad in pure gold.

You claim to have seen nothing,

that a monster couldn’t be reflected in silver.