All-day running around

Doing chores I am uninterested in.

My time is running away too,

Just like my happiness.

They put high expectations on me,

And expect me to fulfil ‘em.

But I am a naïve child and

Not a tool to fulfil their dreams

Still, I put up with it

And face the exhausting thrill.

I smile brightly all day,

Though I am tired as hell

The bright eyes are now dim,

The jostling heart is now just

Beating to survive the hell

Because it is tired of fighting against.

Please stop and understand me,

I am not born to be perfect.

Why do they always forget that?

I am just born to be me.