Who Are We?

Who are we,

What is the essence of our being?

Are we mere figures,

In a story we’re only seeing?

We are all characters,

Crafted in a tale so wide,

With roles assigned to us,

And destinies we can't decide.

Each moment,

We play our parts,

Speaking words that aren't our own,

Breathing in the rhythm of life's unknown.

From the first breath drawn,

To the final one we take,

We’re bound by chains—

Invisible, yet they make

The path we walk,

The choices we face,

And no matter how hard we try,

We can’t erase

These bindings that define us,

These limits that confine—

For every step we take,

We're judged, refined.

We exist as we,

But in truth, we’re not free,

For above us,

The watchful eyes of restrictions see.

We’re not allowed to be—

Not as we truly are,

For the world’s gaze sees us,

Through a lens so far.

Who knows what lies beneath,

The heart of every soul here?

Each one is a marvel,

Yet locked behind fear.

Within each of us,

A spirit burns with might,

A passion unique,

That glows in the darkest night.

But these boundaries,

These walls we cannot see,

Keep us from showing the world,

Who we really wish to be.

We never break free,

From these self-imposed chains—

So we appear as mere actors,

In a tale of endless strains.

If only, just once,

We could step outside the frame,

And be seen in our entirety—

Not just a role or a name.

But the world looks on,

And all it knows is the mask we wear,

For who we truly are,

Is a truth too rare.

And so, we live as we are told,

Not as we truly are,

Shadows of what could be,

Stars in a world too far.