“Human” is how I am addressed


I talk about freedom in the outside world
Yet I have my own self in chains
I let my complex rule over me,
While the person inside, cries and complains

I look at the mirror with amazement and craze
And admire greatly, whatever I see
But not once, am I able to realize,
That even the mirror is deceptive to me

My tongue, I cannot control
The truth, I cannot say
Forgiveness, I will keep asking for
But from mistakes, I cannot keep away

I scout around the endless universe,
When myself, I have yet to explore
I think I know what I have to know,
When there is actually so much more

I have got my life in shackles
I am alive, but repressed
I do not know who or what I am
But "human" is how I am addressed

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