As I walk along my routinely path,
I find that my head is looking down.
I sometimes wonder why that is.
I remember— my eyes show weakness.
My head faced down,
It shows no emotion.
It disguises identity.
It masks the sadness.
My weary heart is afraid,
To admit what is true.
My hesitant mind is in fear,
Of accepting my heart's lies.
Do or don't
That is the constant.
It usually ends with don't.
But perhaps do might be new change.
I know,
That I'll never be,
What you want me to be.
Who you want me to be.
But I'll try.
I've trapped myself,
In my own cage made of doubt.
And there's seems no way out.
