Tangled up in hopeless knots.
Knots of extreme confusion and sorrow.
Sorrow for the opportunities once missed.
Missed for reasons that don’t make sense.
Sense for the future’s importance.
Importance to everyone except for me.
Me, I feel the shackles hold.
Hold their strength from the expectations of others.
Others lost in their conviction.
Conviction to become their improved selves.
Selves that eventually seem artificial.
Artificial in the worst way possible.
Possible because we allow ourselves.
Ourselves to change into something else.
Else our peers look down on us.
Us people, just trying to be.
Be the people we really are.