Lights flash all around.

Vaguely, you hear the sound

Of people commanding

The way you're standing:

"Do this, do that."

They always spat

Their words,

Your mind spins backwards.

I always hate

The way people dictate

All the things

As if they're kings.

It's my picture,

Why's there stricture?

I should get a say

And do things my way.

With rising bile,

For the camera I smile.