Expectations
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From where came this disappointment
At the circumstances that I found?
Why these expectations planted
In my fetal brain
Of what this living ought to mean,
This paradigm of rightness before I even came?
Why am I not a clay
Molded for compliance to what is here,
Why not formed by surroundings
To never question how the craft is steered?
Why not travel the road already paved?
Why instead a resistance forged
To dispute the readymade,
And dream these dreams of difference
That never wish to fade?
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