Why is it you believe you know the extent of my hope?
Why do you believe you know my mind?
You cannot and should not know my every thought,
You presume to know me yet you are blind,
To my turmoil and struggle, my laugh and my cry,
You cannot predict my behavior or woe,
Yet you try to undermine me constantly,
Creating self-doubt through all that you claim to know.
I am not you, I never will be, I cannot try,
To mirror your expectations as I am only me,
I am myself whole heartedly it's all I have,
And all I could ever hope to be.
So why is it you believe you know me?
My inner workings, the things I don't show,
You cannot and should not know my every thought,
Which although you are blind you presume to know.
