Constantly compared,
By my own mind, by eyes that stare,
To meet a standard, invisible yet heavy,
A perfect mold, precise and steady.
The ideal son, who never strays,
The ideal spouse, for all their days,
The ideal man, unbending, strong,
The ideal human, who does no wrong.
To earn the wealth, to clear the debt,
To learn the truths that others set,
To yearn for heights I did not choose,
With everything to prove, and all to lose.
But in this race of who and why,
Beneath the weight of every sky,
Where am I in all this space?
Where is my heart? Where is my face?
Why build a life on someone's ghost?
Why chase the things that matter least,
When all I want, beneath the noise,
Is just to find my own quiet voice?
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