Reflection in Their Eyes

Being great is in my destiny, they say. I have a hidden talent, they say. Am I blind, or is the world buried under sand? Hidden and being expected to thrive is like sipping air or dust for soul. Is it just me or is it all of us? They expect the unexpected but when things go south, You're left to think on what could have been. Should I chase the path unknown? or dig a grave and be known as would have been? Should I bury my head in the sand or chase the unexpected? The unexpected? like the sun rising from the north? They want me to be me but only when it works for them. You find out you’re a zombie in a world of ghosts. A world where burden is placed on those who have no say by those who can’t fulfill themselves like ghosts. So now I’m stuck in between the dead and the undead. So the question remains Not who they see But who am I beneath it all?