Our life is not our own,
every beauty, every happiness,
every misery and every sadness,
we endure but still the live we live is not our own.
We live for society, we live for expectation,
we live to compete and we live for tradition,
we live the life they desire,
because the life we live is not our.
We don’t have courage to discover ourselfs,
we don’t dare to look at us,
we walk live and die,
on their path with our closed eye.
As long as we succeed,
they praise us and greet,
but in dark time of our path
they turn back and laugh on our own deeds.
We try to prove to them,
we trust their judgement about our own life,
we do what they want us to do and follow their own will,
without judging our own strength and giving chance to our own skill.
At the end of the path,
we realize worthlessness of our machinery life,
too early to die,
too late to cry.
because we never able to make our own life.