Factitious

High Pressure High Temperature, diamonds that are lab grown,

Are they the real deal though, existential crisis is full blown.

Can I feel in them art and beauty, and value that diminishes never,

On seeing on my engagement ring, would I be thrilled - are they forever?

 

Plastic surgery is the procedure, the product artificial implants,

I need to modify my body, to whatever the customer wants.  

Choosing silicone over saline, to give it a natural feel,

If I die a bit in the process, become a ghost, whats the big deal.

Fed on a corpus of texts, poems that the Bard regurgitates,

They appear by all means creative, so why the poet agitates?

Shouldn't art be appreciated on its merit, not by who gave it birth, 

Do we need Luddites with pen and paper, for what its worth?

 

Artificial may be superior, may be cheaper, it may not have any flaws,

We'll always prefer the natural, if we knew what's real, what factitious was.