Trying

In trying to write your script
I forgot mine.
Managing your lines
is such a waste of time
my page is crowded, gripped
with your words, your wounds, your footprints.

You I was trying to change
how on earth does it make sense?
But the world cannot disengage
from this clouded ignorance;
in the allowances, it oversteps.

You I was trying to control
confused in the given roles
my feet, never on the ground
my wings, lying hidden, unfound
my words, my script, my lines
lost, unheard, undermined.