We be schooled.

These are the days.
However short, or far between,
These are the memories,
In to which I'll lean.
These are the days,
When you see the machine.
We are fighting to be normal,
And I have been so ever keen,
To avoid their judgement,
Drop below their radars,
Meet their expectations,
As though they were stars.
To fit her into what they expect,
And let them dictate,
Where we go next.
What if normal,
Isn't what we were given,
What if being happy,
Was where we are driven.
Why must we be schooled,
To continue turning the wheel?
What if that's not the way,
Our broken souls heal.