Dark lines of age throughout,
A snapshot of death, stained for good measure,
To eliminate doubt,
That it is anything but authentic,
No plastic was used here,
Thank god, for nothing's good 'bout synthetic,
Yet, death for a picture frame deserves tears,
Then, maybe a rethink of aesthetics,
It's not immune to good,
Beauty should demand to be natural,
Before it's understood,
Like these words, here,
Typed on a computer,
Made from plastic and blood-mined minerals,
A mind's message told through a vile detour.
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