Prisoner

I am the prisoner of my own mind,
Of my own body, not of my heart.
I am the watcher whose role is to see
Not to take part but to be deceived.
To stay silent when my own mouth is
Spelling the words that in fact are not mine,
When my own lips smile with the stranger,
When my own eyes look with the stranger,
When my own hand waves with the stranger?
What is the life where I decide nothing,
When my thoughts are replaced by stranger's words
And all that is me is forgotten and sold?
What can I do then? What can I do?
How, tell me, explain me, I must live
If nothing of me has a chance to receive
Someone's warmth, if the stranger acts wrong,
If he destroys everything that was born,
Carelessly uses all means I possess?
To do something that is nothing but mess?
Why? How? For what? I don't know. Tell me.
I'm going crazy. I don't understand.
Every day brings me a new disaster
Of how imperfect I am.
Will you explain me? I don't understand.
They don't believe me. They're better than me.
I mentioned the stranger. Yes, this is the problem,
That he is a part of me.