Formed by other people’s opinions.
It is so thick, so hard,
And all that I can do to break free is to whittle away at it, little by little.
I yearn to be independent,
To be able to relax and be myself—whoever I choose that to be.
I just want to get out,
Out of this prison of an image that’s been created in other people’s minds.
It’s not my image,
Not a cage I created.
I set no boundaries for myself;
Yet somehow, in the busyness of life,
I have fallen prisoner to this reputation
And it has me locked inside of it.
I just want to revolt.
Why can’t we all revolt
And escape from these horrid prisons we put each other in?