Misunderstood

Once again I am found In a world that pretends to go round, Where we're prescribed What we are and not allowed to do Unknowingly, micro dosing cyanide But I stand here sharing my clear view A world with no rights Yet claiming everything’s alright A paradox to appreciate Chickenpox to fix the birthrate I should’ve known from the start I knew I'd be blown apart Should've grown alone Instead I’m left to cry and moan Wishing away The fear of today, Hoping for a pleasing future Knowing full well that’s no suture... Well, maybe I’ll be alone And that’s okay, I condone, Maybe you’ll follow through But I’m leaving, and so should you