When did I?
When did I lose myself? Was it when I was told their dreams were mine? Or was it when I was gonna die? Was it when I came to exist? Or when I questioned why do I exist? The day I looked upto admire someone, That day I realised what wasn't mine, My aim in life wasn't minr, Because I've been a naive little child. The show, is it really mine? Or am I a puppet in this being ruled by people behind? If I break the strings, Will I still be alive? Or will I be dead, And be refined with a knife? I am pil
