Quest for the quintessential life!

The poems dont rhyme anymore.
The lyrics dont facsinate anymore.
Is it sadness, or my numbness,why dont I seem to savour em anymore?

Days are cliched, nights bring an uneasy calm.
I feel like an object,lying in a dead still stream.
Am I enacting my life?
Seems too real for an act.
I m stuck in a crowd.
A crowd full of people with mask.
A mask which hides just what they are.

Am I a victim or am I the culprit here?

People faking emotions.
I seek warmth in this coldness.
People fooling people.
I seek innocence of a child.
Are we living a life out of adjustments,or is life forcing adjustments out of us?
Are we not living a free world? Whats stopping us from being ourselves?
Are we just too vulnerable being ourselves?
We all are chained,bound with the burden of being a social animal.
I live in hope,
Hope finding life and not social puppets.
And someday I hope to redeem the quintessential life.