Damian Balassone: Pinocchio On Stage

I tried to alchemise my pain
into some form of purity,
not knowing I had somehow built
a shrine to insecurity,
with eyes like rocks of obsidian
I rhymed myself to oblivion.

I tried to glorify my grief
to justify obscurity,
not knowing I had somehow penned
an ode to immaturity,
I searched for truth in works of art,
neglecting truth inside my heart.