Why is it that you don't exist in my mind
When I see people why are they just shapes
My thoughts, why are they shackled in a selfish bind
How do I uncover my empathetic eyes behind drapes
I so badly wish to be a good person just once
Yet one moment of right is delved in false intentions
All of my attempts to be a hero are only theatric stunts
Why do I constantly and carelessly crave attention
Where did my wretched personality begin
Could I have been born covered in expectations
Did I see their lightened gaze and grow dim
So absorbed in what they say I can become, stuck in elevation
By pushing everyone away did I raise the anchor
Or did I trap myself in a shadowed cage called loneliness
Was all my love, kindness, and joy the ploy of a faker
Possibly a plea for some guide of life; though useless
Why is it so hard to be great and virtuous
I may never know after detaching parts of me
Why is being great compared to goodness so arduous
An evil king who kills and the poor people who die innocently
I wish I'd chosen the ladder
Some people aren't willing to say it out loud but honestly being great does require harming people in way or another whether unknowingly or not. So at times just being normal is fine