Imprisoned

Inhaling the superficial realities 

thrust upon us, as we seep it all in.

Exhaling our lies to keep up facades;

Where do we draw the line?

Little by little they chip away at our souls.

Little by little we lose our beings.

Have we nothing to reclaim?

Where do we draw the line?

Hopes, dreams, desires, wishes, secrets.

All lay cramped into a tiny box

Bursting to be set free!

Where do we find the key?

Shame, mistrust, doubts, character, honour.

All tall tales to keep us in line.

How do we wipe the slate clean?

Where do we begin to breathe?

Where do we draw the line?