The walls are papered white.
The murals outside
are a thin disguise
for where we are now.

Let's just pretend.

But when the dream is over,
you're still left in that room.
Wanting to leap out of you self,
run away faster than you can.

There used to be a satisfaction
to the person I am.
But for the first time I'm wishing
I had more of a say.

I guess it's just the weight one has to carry,
when they want to fix everyone
but lack the wings.