At times I question what my purpose is,
run in circles wondering why I try,
why not stop and hide from the suffering,
give into the comfortable lie?
Not quitting was an excuse to not care,
autopilot protects as good as armor-less,
repeat rote memorized propaganda and lies,
but my soul is stirring under this stress.
I am because of the chance that i might be,
I fight for more than appearances or glory,
I stand defiantly upholding shredded dignity,
I am something infinitely more, ME.
