Bitterness (and Commercials)

I've been awoken from a coma
A prison of the brilliant prism
That is my mind,
Serving twenty-five years
Of what seemed like a life,
But was only an eighth.
This is some sort of
Fantasy of choice,
But fake-smile voices
Advertise songs
I know better than they do.
Claiming them to a life
They don't even pertain to.
Robbing uniqueness,
33,000 feet in the sky,
But we never dream of the cost.
Hours gained and then lost,
Then gained and lost.
Sometimes you just have to trust
Because there's nothing else under you
But air.
And somehow you're not falling
Even if no one is there.