I'm like a peacock whose feathers are always ruffled
A beautiful mess, in her vintage best; perpetually askew
Battling each and everyday in her own personal scuffle
What's the meaning of life if I am only to feel morose
Veiled and shielded by a blackened damask curtain
That's why I'm in constant search for life's last dose
As I wander through this world thats been deemed so uncertain
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