Slaves to Unchanging Identities
On the chains we build out of who we used to be — and the storm that might be the only way to wash them off.
A harder one about the way we get locked into versions of ourselves and start performing them long after they’ve stopped being true.
Like sand in the wind
Our collective focus
Becomes scattered
Forever lost, yet deep within us
We search to no avail
Is it because of today?
There’s plenty to blame
Has it always been this way?
We often know what’s right
Seldom do we act accordingly
Shackled by our own chains
Slaves to unchanging identities
Can we truly grow in this storm?
It seems we’re in the same play
Just with different characters
And the rain will wash it all away
The chains aren’t usually external. They’re the version of us we’ve already presented to the world — the role we got cast in, that we keep performing because changing the role would require admitting we’d been mis-cast for a while. The rain at the end is the small mercy. The play resets. New characters can step in.
— JTC