Chapter 69 : Poetry : Weight of expectations

There is a weight I wear,

Silent, steady, shaped by others’ dreams.

It rests on my shoulders,

An invisible cloak, woven from hopes not my own.

Each thread, a whispered should,

Each stitch, a glance that lingers too long.

They tell me to be something more,

something brighter, higher, better.

I take each step carefully,

Measuring my worth by their desires,

Wondering where I end, and they begin.

I walk their path, forgetting my own voice.

But beneath this weight,

A quiet part of me stirs,

Longing for a place to breathe, to grow,

To feel the lightness of choosing my own dreams,

To be something softer, real,

Not held to any mold, not bound by any thread,

Just me, unburdened and whole.

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