It's hard to live up to impossible expectations, yet we constantly build the wall. We try and climb, but fail immensely; and disregard the scratches from our fall. The bruises act as reminders of our inadequacy - it's hard to hurdle over when you are small. These feelings weigh on our shoulders, burying ourselves under a state of turmoil.
We manufacture ourselves, trying to achieve the perfect ideal. Yet we lose ourselves through the grand alteration as we forget what is actually real. Emotions distract our goals, so we hide what we feel; only letting those extremely close to us, witness what to others we refuse to reveal.
Our focus is on achieving what we subconsciously acknowledge we can't achieve. But we blind our mind from that realisation, leaving our dream to become our decreed. We build the wall too high to climb, preventing ourselves from being freed.
We manoeuvre around the obstacle – try and extract the bricks in the wall. But the scratches and blood from our hands leave our fingers far too sore. We struggle within ourselves, losing the battle of our internal war; and contemplate digging a burrow to try and eliminate the obstacle that we ourselves bore.
Can it ever be achieved? Going the extra distance that rationally we believe is impossible? Is it worth defeat? Should we just hammer it down until it becomes too unbearable? Or should we wait for another to save us from our strife? Or is the wall rife; prevalent in everyone's life?
Are we born with the expectation that we constantly set? Or is failure an ideology that we refuse to accept? Will moving on leave us content? Or are we stuck, too afraid to feel irrelevant?
It's hard to live up to expectations, yet we constantly build the wall. We try and climb, but fail immensely; instead of realising we could just use the door…