...Worst of Luck:
Molded out of clay. All of us different. Uniqueness as a natural trait. Somehow I was chosen. Whatever it is they look at, I am blind to. I can't see red. I can't see color. I was told I was better. When all I wanted was to be alone. Comfort lies in knowledge. It was easier to assume. A frozen moment in time. I want to pull it out. Back when the past was mine. Now I can't wait in silence. I never thought to ask. Comfort came in assumption. Not willing to try. Safe by myself. The best luck always happens to those that don't need it. It can also happen to those who don't want it. I'm glad to have it, but I don't deserve it.

Cracked:
Staring down there. Watching all the fallen. Knowledge gained for our use. Knowledge used to fall. Watching all the pain. Implanting our methods. But did it save us? Or are we back at square one? A man once told me. All knowledge is worth something. But then I noticed. Murder only includes humans. Are we saving ourselves? Or pushing ourselves down the hill?

Do we actually need what we know? One more method against the one I hate. Do I want this? In the land of want. I know you don't ask of me. Because you don't need me. But still you beg for it. Never satisfied. I deliver.

Freedom is Slavery:
Flying the white flag. Holding up a sign of defeat. No longer afflicted. Free to roam again. I can fall with grace. I can run away. I'm allowed to crawl. You gave me the sign.

Things aren't the same. Similarities are all dead. I am liberated. To try and work. The wall is gone. My reasons are dead.

I'm moving too slow. You told me I'm fast. But the mind is power. And perception is slavery. I was told to hold back. But my arrow hit a target. I could fall with grace. I could run away. Was allowed to crawl. But the sign is gone.

Things are the same. Similarities have come back. I was liberated. To try and win. The wall is back. My reasons well in place.