I work five days a week
I work nearly seven hours a day
When I’m not at work
I’m working out
I’m at practice 4 days a week
I’m in transit most of the time
I have something to do every day
I've even calculated
That in my busy life
I only have an average of two hours free
Each day

But what do I do in my free time?
Nothing
Zip, zero, nada
All those hopes and dreams
Become excuses
All those aspirations
Wear away
It all becomes too much
And then what do I become...
If I am not my work
Since I’m not valiant or noble
If I am not my workout
Since I don’t have endurance or heart
Then I must be my free time
Only wasted potential.

You know,
I had plans at one point.
I had a goal for my life,
A wonderfully simple life.
Happy in its perfection
Perfect in its normality.
You were part of it.
My closest friend,
My closest lover,
My closest rival.
But now I am nothing.

I am that dried up strawberry
Stuck to the cement
When the last patron goes home
Needing to be scraped up
By the hand of god
Or fate
Ordestiny
Or whoever is stuck with the job
On that unfortunate day

I am this way because
Of all the excuses I’ve said
All the people I’ve tried to be
All the lies I’ve tried to believe
But in the end
I am this way
Because I think
this is the way
I’m meant to be.

We weren’t all meant to be heroes
In fact
Few of us will make it to pedestrian
While the rest of us
Roll around the levels of evil
To general shoe ****

And you know,
I’m not happy with where I am
But I wasn’t happy as a poster child
Being hated by you
Is just easier than
Being liked