Once upon a time there was a small child, and like all children do they dreamed there dreams and played there games,

But something was different, this child didn't play the games that other People thought they should, they didn't act the way others thought they should. The Child didn't know they were different, other children played the games they played and dreamed the dreams they did, If others could then why can't I.

The World is cruel and the child learned how bad they were for being who they were. The Child didn't want to be bad, so they did the things they thought they should and not the things they wanted to. That's the way this child died not in body but in soul. and from that child a person grew and good did come from tragedy. a person thought, if I will never be happy others can, I'll do my best to bring them joy and be the best that I can be, but when you live how others want true joy you'll never find.

When They thought all hope is lost the person grew to know, I must be who I am not who they want, but what I want I do not know, it's been so long since I've asked who am I?, what do I want? Now I sit, a shell am I, I can not know who I am, I can not be who they want.