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Whenever people say to a person succeeding in what they wanted that they are born for that —I reflect back to all my failures and all the dreams I didn't fulfill and ask the question nobody could answer —what was I born to be?
Whenever I see the unreachable heights get reached by people who got there first and people say they are born for the spotlight and adoration —I chip away my mask as I ask the question even I couldn't answer —what was I born to be?
From the depths of my soul and the echoes of a past long gone whenever people remember remarkable figures like they are born for what they died for —I crawl away from the endless surge of doubts and questions that destiny wouldn't answer and realize that as the world around me has everything figured out —I don't know— what was I born to be?
