Echoes of Weariness: A Search for Liberation

I'm weary, tired, can't bear the weight,
Of not being understood, it's such a heavy state.
Each day I wake in the same bed, same feeling's embrace,
No difference in the days, it's a wearisome space.

In life's grand tapestry, I'm a speck, small and slight,
Not in physical growth, but in meanings, I might.
Writing's now tougher, no need for those likes,
I'm tired of society's judgments, its endless hikes.

Who am I truly, what's my genuine notion?
Amidst this confusion, a profound emotion.
Rather not care, chart my own way,
Live life on my terms, what I want to say.

I've never asked until this very day,
Won't heed others' words, come what may.
Autumn lights flicker in my mind's grand hall,
I keep everyone at bay, like a guarded wall.

No one knows who I am, hidden from sight,
To share my thoughts freely, was once my delight.
Days pass swiftly, some I'd rather not choose,
Why can't I find joy in life, what's the ruse?

These "babies" in my hands, I've seen them grow,
Fed them with love, watched their spirits aglow.
From one palm to another, hugs warm and wide,
But life's made me weary, left me empty inside.

Is something missing, or is it these troubles that plague?
Could I have solved them alone, turned the page?
Not everything's worth saving, that's the truth so sad,
Maturity found in learning this, but it still feels bad.

To break free from this obsession, I long to know,
But the answer eludes me, like a river's endless flow.
I search for the way, uncertain, in this life's vast sea,
Hoping one day, I'll find the key to set me free.