It’s so funny to watch people praised
In the fields you’ve broken your back to toil
And you smile, clapping happily for them
For the attention they’ve recieved
But inside, you’re left wanting, why don’t you recieve?
Well that’s because it’s expected of you
How can a seed cultivate a flower; dripping with poison?
Back away, let them see the sun
Hide in the shadows that you’re used to;
Shadows were all you ever had.
It’s the strain, really, that they say they’re proud
But never really show their pride
It’s like being led on, but worse
Because you’re the one left feeling dirty for it
And that’s your fault for being wrong, for wanting
Craving is a petty sin


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