I followed in their footsteps,
Emulated them intentionally.
I tried to be someone else,
Because I hated what has become of me.
How I envied what they were
And it was them, whom I wanted to be.
So I chose to be a fool than to deem with my insecurity.
I watched myself alter into a state of unfamiliarity.
I learned to trade my wings for these feet who followed their footsteps that led me to the cavalry.
The frustration of perfection made me realize that this wasn't meant to be.
I've long been looking at a reflection of a deserted duplicate, infringing originality.
I used to be someone of my own,
Now I'm nothing but a copy.
Nothing more than a shadow-
A prisoner of society's impunity.
I'd rather be myself than to linger in the depths of this suffocating misery
Of once losing myself in the process of trying to be a pitiful wannabe.