Our Lives
We struggle to reach
Just what is out of reach
And yet we continue
To bleakly seek
We follow the used paths
Laid out before us
Don’t stray, for our
Wants we must suppress
You must do this
You must become this
This is who you are
Do not distress
You are not allowed
To have your own creeds
To have your own ideas
To have your own dreams
It is already planned
As what they see
Forget what you thought
Your life would be
You love to write
You love to draw
They are not the plan
They will not befall
Do not cry
Paste a smile
Do not mourn
Fake it all
Wait, I refuse
No longer shall I be
Your puppet to control
I’m meant to be free
No longer a caterpillar
But a young butterfly
I spread my wings wide
And soar the eternal sky
Floating on a zephyr
Dipping and diving
I face the world
As my true being
I chase my dreams
Like falling stars
I’m no longer bound
To here or far
I do as I please
What I was meant for
Pen for the word
Vessel for the sculpture
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