Do, what shall we, to cease to question
Why this all matters
The race of egos
The clash of expectations
The need for compromises
The needlessly needful complication of existence.
Do, what shall we, to cease to question
Why are ourselves so hard to explain
Aspirationally so away from convention
Our demons riding over our angels
Yet, us placing over them, a hand of harmony
Do, what shall we, to cease to question
Why does their necessity shine in sacrosanctity
While ours shadows in servitude
As we wage suppositious wars
To step up to demand and equate
Only to extinguish them, with our lull
Do, what shall we, to cease to question
Why we can’t be looked at for who we are
Over being critiqued for who we could be
As we put in our greatest to bare our souls
Only to become slaves of the images that they built of (for) us
Do, what shall we, to cease to question
Why they would only lend us a ear
To hear, never listen
To slander, never sympathise
Up until then, that our voices lose life, our words - their meaning
Do, what shall we?
Cease to show? To see?
Cease to talk? To listen?
Cease to feel? Be felt?
Think?
Trust?
Question?
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