I sit in a broken, gray room,
staring outside through the window of hope.
It breaks me to see the happiness of independence,
and I watch as the freedom grows.
Envy develops within me,
as I sit within my restraints-
the restraints of normalcy and the regular,
which hold me from being my true self.
Uniqueness is alien to me,
as I follow the rules of my superiors,
those with the key to my restraints.
They tell me they are my friends,
though, I don't believe them.
They never let me out through the window,
and they tell me what to do; how to act.
I am their puppet, and I am quite loyal.
Berating those who do not follow,
and insulting those who are of their own mind.
I feel a sting in my heart as I hurt those who follow their own,
but I will never stop, for pleasing those with the key is pleasing me.
I wish I could free myself of these locks-
that I could steal the key and break through the window,
but I will never be free and I shall never escape.
If only I had the will to do so,
but the comfort of the key holders,
the pleasure of never thinking for myself,
is far too great to ever reach out and take the keys,
for the pleasure of acceptance is too great for me-
I wish I had the will of those who fly free outside the gray room.