Crush my dreams, why don’t you?
Stomp on, tear them, break it and then set it on fire
Let them be reduced to ashes enough
So that I can’t get to them again
Then when my mind is free from such clutter
Let it be painted with your precious advice
For what worked for someone else
Is exactly what’ll work me
Why am I being foolish, really?
For you alone are my well-wisher
You alone care enough to make good my life
While I can only seek to destroy it
Do tell, how is it that you understand my woes more than me?
Or how is it that you see my world more clearly than my own eyes?
Much wisdom must have been granted to you
That lets you think you own me more than me