The Right to Dream

His eyes spoke his passion, 

Setting afoot his thoughts and vision.  

Held back, controlled like he's in prison, 

Following your dreams isn't a tradition.

Forced to follow a career, a family of doctors and engineers,

Following a dream you'll be as foolish as you appear,

It pains me to hear it imagine his tears. 

Live life like a sage,

Boring novels unveiling page by page,

It's the disappointment that turned into rage,

A box of menace and domination under which he was caged. 

A depressed soul cried, another well had dried.

His body existed but its purpose wasn't sound.

Yet another dreamer was quietened down. 

The society, their visions, only lord knew their filthy intentions.

Ending lives of dreamers was a fashion,

They never let any soul imagine,

To them it was tension,

But to him it was a purpose's retention. 

His eyes continue speak his passion,

Following your dreams isn't still a tradition.