You've been building so long,
Everything you see's your own creation,
Am I getting that wrong?
Do you instead wish for the day you're free,
To make it what you want?
What are the tethers keeping your hands tied,
So that what you want to do, you now can'?
Is it the past that has been etched in stone?
The weakness grown in you?
The details of the lives surrounding you,
That restrict what you can do?
Or is it you?
I don't know either way,
But laid out before you in this menu,
If you had to choose, which is it, you'd say?
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