We are brought into this world, with no say, Used for the benefit, of those who sway. Born into a life, of toil and strife, A tool for others, to use in their life.
We are raised, to serve a purpose, A means to an end, a mere surface. Our talents and dreams, often ignored, As we're pushed to conform, and to be adored.
We are used for labor, to fuel the economy, Our bodies and minds, a means to a destiny. We are used for our youth, and for our health, A resource to be exploited, for the wealth.
We are used for our taxes, to fund the state, Our freedoms and rights, often sealed by fate. We are used for our votes, to sway the polls, Our opinions, a means to control the roles.
But in this cycle of use and abuse, We must refuse to be just a muse. We must take control of our own lives, And make our own fate, and own our rights. We are not just a means to an end, We are unique individuals, with our own journey to tend.