​They always say to my itching ears,

“if you can’t

Beat them,

Join them”

As though joining them is all that matters…

So, I join them, and behave like Romans

Since I’m in Rome…

Then preach on Sundays,

“Do not conform to this world”

I mean…

What exactly is not conforming?

Is it reforming the habits that I’m constantly surrounded with

Or performing the duties, lust of the eyes,

Pride of life, envy and strife doles out to me?

What exactly is corn forming?

Is it to say no to the troubles that standing out brings or what?

I look through the curtain of principles 

I 

Was raised

With,

And all that I see is a world upended.

To tell a lie and get to the limelight,

Seems to be the cheapest flight

Ticket to greatness.

To slay myself on the alter of the world

As a slay queen, looks like the easiest way to be part of the trendy millions

Who flout their nakedness on social media

To enter competition where my talent is showcased to the glory

Of one whom I was told once coveted His glory

Seems to promote me as a good actor,

I see it not as a factor that is 

Corroding   people’s view of my stand with him.

I hear melodies

That ends up infecting my soul with maladies;

MAL-IDS

I stand before the world representing one

While in my heart I represent the other.

I live as a bunch of falsehood

Just like everyone else.

I live my life as light hidden under the bushel,

The hill crying to have my presence

Where am meant to stand out

©Symolean