Who am I to give up old habits
just for one approval?
Who am I to change fruitful ways,
and watch you celebrate its removal?
To hear harsh words being thrown at me
and just accept every swing?
When, just once ago,
I was doing my own thing.
Who am I to eat dust
while being pounded into the ground?
By who? By you. Yes, you, my friend
and the way you put me down.
Who am I to self-destruct
while you're high and mighty on your throne?
But you tell me that you made me, you own me, and you can break me;
Well, I can break on my own.
Who am I to be made to believe
that to rise I must first fall?
But, if my rising comes with such hurt, shame, and pain
then I'd rather not rise at all.