Crowd Seclusion

Have you ever felt isolation

From whom you really were

Created into something so vast

Only for what others had prefer

Happiness is ripe for the picking

But is happiness not rotting within

Just another bruised fruit in the orchard

Just another torn soul wrapped in skin

Melting pot is completed for the year

Everyone stead at their rightful place

But you, chained in the middle

Lost in the Labyrinth's lace

The crowds sap has thickened

Layers of conformity exists beneath

The little ant makes it way downward

Eventually trapped in the bark's rough sheath

Gradually it suffers from hunger

Hunger for exemption and home

The shackles bind the poor ant

From the freedom to live, and the freedom to roam.