Poetry 0.7

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I have been distracted this week, but hopefully I can get things back on track.

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Expectations

I see it there in your eyes,
That pin-point knife threat at my throat
– do I dare speak? –
A cruel list of things to be completed,
What kind of person am I? Do I fit the desired design?
– I’m not a sculpture – I can’t be anyone else –
One false move and I’m the worst in the world.
Your whimsical dream of the perfect being. A robot with no variation in thought, programmed just how you like.
Expectations are a cruelty accepted everywhere.