Isolated

Insomnia

My thoughts are not my own.
My ideas were given to me by a gum ball machine at the corner store.
My words come from alphabet soup sold by society and spoon fed to me by other people.
My actions were hand-me-downs from relatives I watched as a child.
My dreams are just fantasies of going back in time and changing things.
You see my life was molded for me.
I did not choose the paths before me because others have already laid down the foundation.
I wanted cobblestone they gave me concrete.
These are the reasons I can't sleep