a sadness so deep it's unfathomable,
a regret for wanting more than
ordinary:
she waited, smiling for this?
Recognition is an ever-growing weight:
the unknown are left unseen,
but our burning stars are watched,
both in admiration and criticism.
The music once sang of freedom,
and poetry learns to love anonymity.
Anything less than perfect isn't
enough:
shine like the sun, or burn out.
But we're just human,
this is an ultimatum we can't win,
yet we wanted something more:
we waited, smiling for this?
Our sanctuary becomes a prison,
a church with bars on the windows
and armed guards at the doors:
what once saved us now entraps us.
It's that look in her dark eyes,
that same unfathomable sadness,
that regret for hopes and dreams,
that makes us wish we could do more.
-Zero
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