It’s hard
Not knowing why I feel this way
Confined for so long
Playing with my mental puppet strings
Pulling, yanking
Am I am just to dance?
A merry jive
To the music of the propaganda
The conspiracies
The lies of powerful people
That feel they do not have to abide
I remember the angst
The unruly mental thoughts
Skipping through my mind
As that rope slapped against my brain
Again and again and again and again
Should I even start on the job?
The thought of being a point to it all
No, a mindless trill
I am just expected to be good
And continue fucking on
Where is my value?
Am I just a tool in a workbench?
As I always will be
Until worn and I will be changed
Traded in for a younger model
At a discounted price
Now I know what to expect
It isn’t any easier
Nor shall it ever be
And before you ask
No
I’m not okay!
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