I am whipped out of bounds;
bound to bear the burden
so aptly forced on me.
I've lived so listlessly,
and becoming me
was never free,
from my pre-disposed destiny.
Bound to pull the chains,
aching to reach my dreams,
to witness them tear at the seams.
As if all joy was a façade
bent on making me believe
in a terribly gifted God.
My back is bent,
holding this terrible weight.
Praying for a quick end,
as dutifully given,
as I so generously bore.
©Sigma, 2008
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