Idea

The strain and longing,
they huff and give.

Thought comes
and seems so right.

A thought with an origin of low;
instilled all the same.

But more and more
is gone from them,
Try, strip.

Just beyond,
hope fading--still present.

Questions arise,
Hope to smash.

But all seems gone,
the feeling felt.

Though they know
they fake a smile.

Too late, who they were is gone
Who they were made to be is scoffed.

Lost in that thought,
unable to see their light.