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Description
Relegated
Limited
Boxed

See, it's frustrating when you're consigned to a single thing, when you're trapped in a box, in a label, beating on the walls trying to prove, trying to show that you're more than what they see you for.

See, I've been shoved in that box, that brown wooden box, labeled simplified, trapped in their view of me, and I don't want to be there. I want to prove to them that I can do it, I want to show that I can be me. I want to show that I can be free, but it's hard when I'm still labeling myself, still belittling myself, still giving them a reason for me to be

relegated.

See, I've been told some things about me, about what I can do. A lot of people said, you can't, you suck, you're terrible, you're talentless, and I believed it. I ate it up, and I don't know what's true anymore about myself. I know that I'm loved, and I'm trying to walk in that, but what have I got to show? What can I do? I can't see myself in a mirror without seeing the cracks and the marks from ages so long since said and words so long since passed. I'm twisted up inside, and I don't know what I see in me. I want to believe that I've got some talent, I want to believe that I've got some voice, but their turned backs and my burned past still tell me that I'm not welcome here.

Relegated
to the box I was given.

God, please tell me You see something beautiful in me.
Please tell me You see something worth your while in me, because I've been on this sidewalk panhandling my guts out, looking for someone to throw a handful of their interest or maybe just a few cents of their time into the hat at my barefoot feet.
Please God.

I don't want to be relegated.
And maybe I'm just looking to be elevated, but I want someone to say I'm good enough. I want someone to say I'm worth it, because I don't know if I am.

Description
Relegated
Limited
Boxed

See, it's frustrating when you're consigned to a single thing, when you're trapped in a box, in a label, beating on the walls trying to prove, trying to show that you're more than what they see you for.

See, I've been shoved in that box, that brown wooden box, labeled simplified, trapped in their view of me, and I don't want to be there. I want to prove to them that I can do it, I want to show that I can be me. I want to show that I can be free, but it's hard when I'm still labeling myself, still belittling myself, still giving them a reason for me to be

relegated.

See, I've been told some things about me, about what I can do. A lot of people said, you can't, you suck, you're terrible, you're talentless, and I believed it. I ate it up, and I don't know what's true anymore about myself. I know that I'm loved, and I'm trying to walk in that, but what have I got to show? What can I do? I can't see myself in a mirror without seeing the cracks and the marks from ages so long since said and words so long since passed. I'm twisted up inside, and I don't know what I see in me. I want to believe that I've got some talent, I want to believe that I've got some voice, but their turned backs and my burned past still tell me that I'm not welcome here.

Relegated
to the box I was given.

God, please tell me You see something beautiful in me.
Please tell me You see something worth your while in me, because I've been on this sidewalk panhandling my guts out, looking for someone to throw a handful of their interest or maybe just a few cents of their time into the hat at my barefoot feet.
Please God.

I don't want to be relegated.
And maybe I'm just looking to be elevated, but I want someone to say I'm good enough. I want someone to say I'm worth it, because I don't know if I am.