The Actor

I live inside 

A mask, built

With four walls

And four corners

I've cut

And while I poke

Holes with my

Knife-shaped fingers,

I'm still refused 

The pleasure of

God-given air

My lips have

A job, and 

Are there for 

You,

"At your service!"

But they receive

A payment worth

Nothing more than

God-given air

God-given air

God-given air

God-given air

God gave me air

And the oxygen

Feels lacking in its

Supply

And my words 

Are proven at the

Testimony

As false witness,

Lies