Where there never was a hat

Perhaps the worst is true,
Overrated is the power of love
Where time walks in hand with obligation
The underestimated underdogs of an uninspired human nature.
Moving us slowly, gently
Then suddenly, involuntarily we go
Forward? But there is no A-B
Just the conventions of what we know
The A-Z
Love that never grows, never travels with you
Stuck where it began, of sentiments untrue
A force disguised as comfort
One day I cut the ties
of everything I thought I knew
And you realise, when you understand, that hindsight is your cruelest critic.
Locking you away in your mind
Built of walls of bricks with concrete
Strong, there, always there
But now I rage against my four walls with might that turns them into sand, and the fire of my passion blindly drives me through
To a new wall made of glass
So I set passion free, and let go of strength.
And lost though I may be,
My liberated passion moulds my barriers into art,
A glass sculpture of someone who I am yet to know.

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