Could it be so strange
To live a lie each day
Never to be true self
But instead another
Even the lowly stand
For their cause is true
That a clean soul stays
Even with dirty hands
Their world, a mirage
Given to glory unearned
Numbed by drugs too
Hidden oft' from reality
Unlimited compensation
Given by those mediocre
Wishing to be great ones
Yet existence mundane
Dreams and fears kept
Created in another's fantasy
Illusions to distract freely
From life's daily hold so
Some find or make truth
They live it as it allows
But many breathe each day
In a desperate fantasy