That 4 People

I only looked forward and run, Without having time to look for sun They say teenage years mess me up, And it was all because of my merely luck. Then flashback hit me and look who's at fault? Whatever I'm today is taste of their salt. Meet their expectations to earn the name, And I don't really want this baseless fame. They always blow their own trumpet, And wanted me to be their puppet; It's not a show or a red carpet, Pretending like they are feeding me buffet. For these people I didn't find any cure Who wanted me to be a bit more mature; About their life, they were unsure But that four people's intention were impure.