Brittle


No scope of ambition, has seldom grit
pulling away the fabric of belief,
thread by thread, that once his parents knit.

Who was once keen to grasp knowledge by the tail and get lost in its grandeur,
Is now a lad, with collapsing vision With lust only for the comfort of life.
Wrong to think that he was negligent to life,
he was still finding his place in the world.

Seas and ponds are born from droplets, but time is of the essence in all.
Yet, he was too naive to think they’d understand,
to think its all was a part of God’s plan

To think he’ll discover his passion later on,
unaware that later, never comes at all

“Your field of talent is barren now,
why couldn’t you be better than yourself.
The world is full of selfish intentions,
comfort is for the lily-livered twits”- all said.

The weights of assumptions tied around his ankles,
forbidding him to run the mile,
For he sought the true essence of life
but his goal was too shabby to be acknowledged.

The spectrum of joy meant nothing to him now,
Tis not his tea to be defying mediocrity ,he thought.
His eyes sore from weeping all day,
on accepting that his life has gone down the drain.

No one to share with, his immense agony, Not one soul who could understand his state..

If you too carry the load of expectations and regret on your back all day,
And look at yourself with sorrow and dismay
Congratulations, you’re just one of the lot!

Its fine to be uncertain of what your future holds, its all a part of your exuberant destiny.
Triumphant are those who never lose hope,
Just remember
Brittle souls harden with time...

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