Pinocchio Jazz
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
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