In the stands the crowds cheer,
It's what they do best.
And in class the professor lectures,
About the greatness expected for every test.

And at home the parents preach,
About the wrong that shouldn't be done.
And outside the officers enforce,
With their hands firmly on their guns.

But nobody ever teaches you,
How to handle the disappointed faces.
When you've gone down your own path.
Leaving the rest still in their braces.

Nobody ever tells you,
That the disappointment is rough.
That handling what can't be handled,
Is nonsensically tough.

So here I am to write it.
In hopes that it will be read.

In fragment whims of lyrical rhymes,
Incompetently attempting to ease the dread.  

Take these words and conquer.
Take them as weapons like swords.

So when they judge and cast their mockery.
Your arsenal of protection is what wards.

Let you be safe and sound during the fight.
And walk unbothered by those with selfish plight.

And journey till you reach the destination of choice,
Where freedom rings in the form of your own voice.