Idol

You have changed me. To be precise, your image did.

But I’m not so far gone to hide from the glaring truth.

It pains me to acknowledge the unoriginal twist –

But you don’t have the slightest idea that I even exist.

 

However, I’m grateful for the twisted joke crafted above.

I’m like millions now; not precisely but in an essence a fan-girl.

I have wandered closer to the marginal crowds

I dream of something that crosses all bounds.

 

I feel ashamed. My mind and my pride recoils at a mere thought,

But my soul’s longing prevails, supported by my foolish heart.

And if I ever have to confess this weakness,

I’m sure I would die before I can even start.

 

It is a struggle. I’m crushed and inspired by the same idol,

And I wish I could shake the nets of adoration, but I’m not ready.

I’ve got used to the feelling of the subtle warmth,

That I’ve created myself from crippled self-worth.

 

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