My Turn, My life

Why am I to suffer and endure
this pain so pure?
Why is this life so hard,
like playing a game of card.

I'm deeply afraid of what's to come,
deeply afraid of some.
I'm thinking now,
why should I take a bow?

Why should the curtain close on me?
Can nobody see?
I'm not finished yet,
even though my life's not set.

I can go on through it,
not just wait and sit.
I must do something,
it's my turn to sing.

My turn to take charge,
Onto the stage I barge.
I look out into the crowd,
in my mind I am proud.

I know now that I am not controlled,
I know now that I'm something that can't be sold.
My turn to hold the knife,
My turn to live my life.*