A child, they said, was born so free,
Yet freedom’s touch he’d never see.
No tears to shed, already marked,
A name bestowed, a life embarked.
An identity he cannot claim,
A silent voice, a hidden flame.
If only names were all they chose,
But paths and dreams, they too impose.
A future carved by others’ hands,
No room to roam, no place to stand.
A life designed, a role to play,
In shadows deep, he fades away.
Thrown into a world so vast,
To bear the weight of others’ past.
Responsibilities to meet,
Yet never feels his own heartbeat.
Onikitsu
