Tied

Speak up, shout out, then what ?
Wait for the echo to rebound?
A caring hand would be better maybe,
Actions of love better still.

Yet the wait for the echo is endless
Not a sound, a hand, or love comes through,
Alone stands each one,
Facing demons standing tall.

Rising above them is a lost cause,
We're bound by the desire of their nod,
How can one leave behind that,
To which they have tied themselves.

We try each day desperately,
To become a better version of us.
To please another, make them proud.
Shedding tears all the while.

To hell with the yesterdays.
The people then, the people now.
It's just me I'll believe in now.
Just after this one more let down.