Does the name of this poem matter when nothing else does?

The truth shattered, 
No more of the arrays of light. 
Instead, the evil mirror reflected, 
Flooded ruthlessly into my sight. 

The familiar things that I've known; 
The usual words that were spoken. 
Every reality that I'm used to, blown. 
Your beautiful lies dissolved all too sudden. 

Inside my mind your voice still echoed, 
You spoke of the good. 
Now I know that I was deluded, 
I realised my heart isn't made out of wood. 

Begone now, hypocrite! 
For I'm not your puppet. 

Dale Chou
1998-12-12