I am merely a prop in a play;
an everlasting play of monotony and emulation.
I am surrounded by false faces and futile conversations.
I beat my bloody fists against this relentless cage of routine;
screaming, trying to be heard, but the world is deaf to me;
I stand on the highest peek, fall to a slow death, but the world is blind,
and the songs in this play are old and withering.
The few who dare to jump off the stage
are left to write their own story:
a tragedy; where they win, fail, and die; forgotten.
I, in my attempt;
to walk off the stage,
to be heard,
to be seen,
to be diverse, and to be me,
fell instead.
But I'll show the world a story
where a girl falls,
rises by herself,
and writes the most beautiful book
the world has ever read.
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