Mirage

©Doll They tell us we’re free, but it’s a lie they keep selling. The world’s built for those born with everything, Not for people like us, struggling just to get by. We wake up each day, already behind, Running a race we’ll never win. It’s all for nothing, just survival, Another day, another dollar in someone else’s pocket. But they tell us to smile, call it freedom. Freedom’s just a word they use to keep us quiet, So we don’t scream about wanting more. What’s the point of all this struggle? If every day is just another fight, For a life we’ll never own, For dreams that aren’t really ours. The rich build their towers, We build their dreams. And when we can’t climb high enough, They step on us to keep rising. We trade our time for the chance to breathe, But breathing isn’t living. We’re just here, surviving for another day, So we can work another one tomorrow. Where’s the freedom in that? Where’s the life in just getting by? They say we’re free, But we’re just pieces in their game. What’s the point of chasing this? If everything we do is for someone else. We’re told to dream, but those dreams are sold, To the ones who already have it all. So why do we keep pretending, When we know how it ends? The stress, the agony, it’s all we know. But we’re told to be grateful, Grateful for the chance to struggle. We live in fear, hoping for change, But deep down we know it’s always the same. What’s the point of this so-called life? If all we’re doing is surviving. The rich get richer, the poor just fade, And in the end, we all meet the same fate. What’s the point of all this agony? When we know how it ends… It all ends in the same way.