Eggshells

I’m walking on eggshells, silenced by those around me whilst I watch them put knives in each others backs. Eggshells, they break every time another voice shouts, the sounds seems heavier than footsteps. Cracking, breaking only crumbs will remain, crumbs of a soul in a fake body. Manipulated by those who should love, never being good enough. Good enough for what?
What purpose has a soul if it has to be good enough, good enough for life, who is? Am I? Are we? Not worthy of appreciation or gratitude, why is this the way we are viewed? Always watching and standing by whilst others fight for crime. Fighting for a war and telling ourselves that we have to win. Win at life.
Life is not a game and there is no winning a war. No longer will we remain in chains, made to believe that one day we will win for others. I have won for myself for I live happy and proud. Proud of no longer remaining in the shadows, removing the knives from their hands and calming their voices, not making them stop. Crying of happiness and not of the war within us begging to stop.
We are happy, we are different. I am happy. Are you?

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