caste to caste,
we are on a pyramidal paste.
less to none, the options to outclass
this is the cry of an outcast.

one day
he will love you
the way
you loved him

one day,
he will think of you
the way
you thought of him

one day,
he will cry for you
the way
you cried for him

one day,
he'll want you
but,
you won't want him

you ran so fast to chase
after him;
so fast that
you left
yourself.

maybe that's why i come home rarely
what's the point of being at home,
when you don't feel like it is anyway.
God knows, i love them still.

maybe that's why
every word that they spat
hurts like a million gunshot.
God knows, i still love them still.

maybe,
it's not the possibilities
that's stopping me;

maybe,
it's me who is stopping
the possibilities.

pierced into my head
the concrete unfairness
of this world

those in a better place
cringe at those
in the worse place