You might as well lock me in a cell.
My feet trace the same path through the same hallways day after day.
My mind follows the pattern of remaining still, present but unspoken for.
I was not meant to live in a meaningless routine.
Living from weekend to weekend just isn't enough anymore.
When all my time is taken from me.
What do I like to do??
I've never had a choice before.
Go ahead, They'll never know
what I would have been capable of.
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