The brakes are tight, the gas is down,
You're told to drive through every town.
The GPS you must obey—
Your car grinds through both night and day.

 

They say that grind is how you grow,
That pain is just the way to go.
A clash inside is deemed the norm,
As if the damage helps you form.

 

But if your car were built this way,
You’d call it broken, not okay.
So why accept this war within,
And bear those costs again, again?

 

“Be kind,” they say. “Put self aside.
Delay your joy, and shrink your pride.”
“Some give, some take”—the rules you learn,
Your inner wheels both churn and burn.

 

Desires split into good and bad,
Voices saying, “Don’t be a cad.”
But good just means you’re praised, not free,
And bad means they are blaming thee.

 

But if your car were built this way,
You’d call it broken, not okay.
So why accept this war within,
And bear those costs again, again?

 

You drive for love, you seek to please,

And chase approval on your knees.

Just drop that script, release the bind,

Choose courage so your parts align.