Born a product of circumstance,
He sleeps with his eyes wide open,
A puppet dancing to crafty hands,
The rebel in him lies unspoken,
Waiting for the right moment- the perfect chance,
He dances along, to his master's hands,
But has he forgotten, lying in the dark?
That he must keep alive that one last spark?
Naye, the boys got the fire,
He knows to snatch what he desires,
And thats going to take him higher,
Look back at it, he will,
And laugh destiny in the face,
As time ticks away still,
The boy sits dreaming away at his place...
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