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Roses are red Violets are blue My name is Nick But for some odd reason Some call me Nickypoo
Who am I Behind the filter of a picture I am a man with very much to remember I have a story that is not yet over Black man living past 18 is the luck of a 4 leaf clover The story that is not told
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, Will I ever be a
Through an Instagram lens its often hard to see the bigger picture Every post is worth a thousand words And some of them are meant to injure
Where did what's right and what's beautiful become so intertwined? When did I becomed defined only by my jaw line? Why does #MasterCleanse and #LookingThin appear more than #Eating and #LetLoose?
I am everything I could ever ask When time flits away my inner beauty thrives Guiding me to the infinite fountains
So who is the man in the mirror? The real one- you know? The one behind the filter hidden away, disquised because no matter how hard he tries... There is something different--
Hidden behind the screen
Sometimes, my teeth seem slightly rotten with a honey residue considering, weekends I forget to brush, Or how my hair waves in this condescending way when I clinch my fist together.
I am Broken.
Snap ! Zoom, get centered more, then delete. Twenty to fifity shoots until we get the one that is unique. Taking photos for others to critique.