"Any place you don't leave is a prison."
I'm not sure I recognise myself;
I know I know, stare into a mirror long enough and all the features starts to blur -
but wasn't there more of me before? 
I think I used to be more;
so much wasted potential here -
I feel so stuck, I guess I built my own prison. 
Soon, soon, I'll be out of here,
soon, soon, I'll be somewhere else;
but it never happens. I'm still here:
somewhere I said I'd leave three years ago.
I smile and laugh cause I don't know what else to do,
improvising life as I go along
and heck, I'm not even a good improvisor. 
But if you smile and laugh enough - no one asks you if you're fine
- no one asks about happiness. 
So many dreams,
so many plans;
I'm not sure there's enough of me left to fulfill them. 


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