Illegal Happiness

I think I've found someone, even if it's just a fantasy

you must never know

not only because of your unreasonable standards.

Actually that person doesn't matter to you,

unless I smile

if I smile, you demand a frown in replace

my lips must be sealed and my fingertips are forever

glued, to a pencil, a keyboard, a piece of a dead tree.

The only thing you wish for me is success that's not mine.

I will build my success my own way.

But you deny any other path to success because the only path to success is

your way.

Which is entirely false.

You can't even let me breathe!

What is this tyranny that I must live with?!

You think you're some angel,

but the only thing I see in front of me is the devil.

Who am I then?

The devil's daughter?

Your ways are evil and only for your own desires.

Have you ever thought how I felt?

I cannot be happy for what I call success?

Even just a step towards it?

You don't understand that happiness is success.

But all our definitions of strange sounds that come out of our mouths are different

Even the way we say them.

Tell me Madam, what am I?

Can I not be happy during my path to success?

Since when was happiness illegal?