The Numbers Game

It's all coming to an end my friend,
and...

I passively watch were the sun falls away
I painfully watch the sky turn to gray
and remember this day
as a sort of clarity
shedding light on familiarity.

The clouds of conformity descend
and while they all pretend
I watch my life waste

and begin to taste
the raindrops of my blood
and the floods of failure
as they fatally rise from the floor.

When I finally found a place for myself
it doesn't conform to their shelf
of statistics and misguided notions
my flying free mind becomes their pet bird
now I'm caged and enraged by their words
they willfully wait to manipulate
every fiber of my fate.
Those dark clouds with silver lining
are tarnished and the sky is designing

a prison for confining
the spirit and soul
taking control
and injecting me with their inner visions
until I see their perceived right decisions.

Trasped within their numbers game
to be the same,
and it seems I've lost it all
for soon my dreams will fall
but at least I have my very own number,
I'd rather banish this disguise of lies
and succumb to eternal slumber.
Their screams of thunder
pointing out my every blunder
taking me under their wing
trying to teach me to sing
their songs of ignorant righteousness
and I lose my youth
to their harsh untruth.

Deceit and defeat
become so concrete,
but I won't take a seat
on their tragic train
where its destination
leads to doors of disdain.

For some reason I followed
that weary whistle
to barren lands so hollow,
what can free me
from the way that I feel
and all that I must conceal
to escape this world's atrocity
and my inner animosity?
Why isn't it enough
to stand tall and tough
and show my dedication,
the sorrowful reality
to why they expect normality
has no decent explanation.