Docile, docile, docile, docile
You wish for me to be docile.
You want me to be meek..maybe even beneath you.
You encourage me to follow so that you can dominate.
Hate everything I am and everything that I’ve become.
Why, though?
What are you afraid of?
What does my intelligence stop you from?
Huh?
Do you care to explain?
In so many ways you blame me.
For your superficiality, your lack of reality. Your neglect, misfortune, and false understanding.
Can I stand and fulfill my own purpose?
Will it prevent you from fulfilling and reaching yours?
Do you really know it all? You know so much, yet know nothing.
Get over yourself, your pride, and your ego.
Turn away from your own foolishness, so you can finally grow.
But as for me and my life, I’m going to love and be me, with or without you.
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