In shadows cast by friends and foes alike,
The whispers grow, a ceaseless, pressing tide.
I feel the weight of expectations strike,
A voice within, so desperately denied.

They say to fit, to mold, to bend and break,
To sculpt a self that mirrors all around.
Yet in my heart, a yearning, fierce and great,
For truth in me, not shackled, not bound.

The laughter shared, yet tinged with silent fears,
Of stepping out, of being cast aside.
The masks we wear, so polished, full of tears,
Behind the smiles, where our true selves hide.

But courage grows, a flame within the night,
To stand alone, to voice what’s deep and true.
For in the end, the battle is our light,
A path that’s walked by only precious few.