Used to live inside a room
With no capacity to bloom
Scared to face reality
Ignoring his true face and beauty
The door was always open
But he preferred staying inside
Scared to see his happiness stolen
Killing the breath of every desire
Finally he decided to leave
Avoiding his own grief
His eyes married the darkness
Couldn't hide his true face
Crossing the door was his first step
The first time he felt like himself
Struggling for years, asking for help
Finally he will be happy in his shelf
Nothing on the list of his needs
Except support and time to proceed
The first second out of prison
Already able to see the horizon
Comfortable in his own skin
Not wearing a mask anymore
Happy with people around him
Giving him the feeling that he's gonna win
Many questions may be asked
A lot of whispers could be made
But whatever happens
He will always be him
