A brush stroked the canvas.
Color painted a picture.
A picture depicted someone.
That someone was not me.
They proclaimed a victor.
They screamed out his name.
They all celebrated someone.
That someone was not me.
Large crowds of people came.
Fireworks lit the sky.
Drinks toasted to someone.
That someone was not me.
Years and years passed by.
Their praise bowed my shoulders.
They all thought me someone.
That someone was not me.
Lungs crushed by some boulders.
Drowned by people's thanks.
Why couldn't they see?
That someone was not me.
Two friends dot my flank.
Only they draw out a laugh.
With them, I can be free.
Can be someone that is me.