This is the music

that reveals the novel

of fakeness,

I used to wish to be real

but I couldn't

Putting on masks,

till I walked on hinges,

as the authority of joints,

but as time went on

they rusted,

my act was busted

by  the mirror of truth

My soul is the saxophone,

that play the tune

of an old story,

with a smile, I was

conceived by the womb

of calculated drama

Well, I'm glad that

fallacy is over,

looking into mirror,

and not seeing your reflection,

the real you had

been impeached

by extreme acting,

and that is how I tease reality,

another way of playing

with life

Well, like I said,

I'm glad the era of animations

are over, I still

plan to study animation

some time soon.

                              By Kakraba Afful