Different days?

Trapped in a world, which I have created

To imagine something different is like breathing with breath that is bated

So far down this road there is no turning back

Yet I am so tired of hearing someone yell, bicker, and yack

To much involved, too many that would hurt, to much to bear

You act in a way so that everything goes your way, or else you don’t care

Stuck in a land of fairy tales, fiction, and simple la la

I no longer believe in that system, or any religion, really nada

I gave it my everything for over half of my life

All it ever gave to me was more and more strife

I am this way, and am who I am, most of which I cannot change

But what about the slim chance of different days?

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