I was born into construction, I know no other trade.
Im not very good at math, and my writings just the same.
I try to act, I try to sing but in the end I always seem right back where I began
I build the set, I cut the wood, and they're painted by my hand. Could I be another man, I know I choose not who I am, but I wish I could just understand if im a product of this land or am I free to choose my plan.
I will fail at my career, this is my fear. I will be like my father, broken and poor. There is only one door for me, the rest are locked and theres no key that i can see in sight.

Everyone is born with a lock on their heart and a key in their hand. But my lock was broken. No one could fit their key in, for my lock had been damaged as a little girl and the key I was given had been misshapen. Until you came along, your own key and lock had been broken many times as a child and somehow the exact dent that had made it impossible for you to find a fit had slipped perfectly between my ******* and clicked. Unlocking something I never thought would unlock. And my key, a key that had only been used once before without success fit inside your lock with a click as well. Each lock opening to show emotions we had kept so tightly closed. And as I looked into your eyes, each other's hearts open on display, I realized that maybe our "damaged goods" are only damaged to the wrong people. Because for each other we were the exact fit we needed.

He set himself free out of the confines
he was in, after much misery and suffering.
To free his mind  out of jail's jagged logic
was, an exorcism of many kinds, for long.

But the rudest shock came when he found out
that the so called jail didn't have any lock at all!
Who then was the renegade, in the first place
that made him believe, he was a prisoner of life?

A pointer on " how to look" for all of us who deviate,
hallucinate and take it as  truth,without  any question!
How many still are locked up,in the dark confine of minds,
thinking there is no way out and the key is lost for ever.