When will this be over?
When can I be free? 
When will they understand?

I'm engulfed by anxiety -
No, mental pressure -
Wait, fear.

Sleepless nights keep me occupied 
My thoughts take over
Dragging me down with them

Down hill spiral,
Idiots observing me
Their notes deciding my fate
The weight is more than it should be
Only to be an amoeba,
A microbe, contorting itself to fit into society

Small, but destructive 
Killing off the population
The wanted population
Sifting out the debris
Keeping the robots
And throwing out the impurities 
Therefore creating a "perfect" world

A dollhouse
Playing dress up and living in a plastic world
Ideal for societal image
Burning any sort of human error