Change. Its the one thing destined to happen. It can be good It can be bad Or it can be a balance. Yet, When it's my turn, My chest begins to tighten and my breath is capsulated. That is what has happened. I walked the stage, Ready for an embrace of change But as the hours turned to days, Everything remained the same. I'm expected to walk this rope, Every person asks about it full of hope, But I'm only left with lies to fit the scope. Its exhausting, Wanting to take the step but falling. I'm trying to do the "right thing," But I'm "failing". Expectations. A true sense of frustrations. Wanting to meet the anticipation, But maybe at the next station?