I’ve been too lax

A lackey of fancy hope

Caught myself winding

On a loop of dependency

Pampered by a golden spoon

I always thought I was special

Until life showed me otherwise

Inept to survive the ebb

My dainty fingers have become docile

Everyday has become my tortuous black Saturday

The gloom n’ pessimism

Were my precarious alternatives

To stay in the game

I must be wicked like the rest of them

Nothing remains the same

Everything I was taught of are not like what they seem

Hobbling on through the pebbly thoroughfare

I’m trying to catch up with the wayward world

It’s like an anathema all over me

All my mornings turned pale and cold

And my evenings have never been so deathly still

A smacking quip of nature

Deep inside I’m helpless

Cut-off from the binding strings of ardor

And as if to add insult to my injuries

These acrimonious adages

Violently whips me

With such profundity of words

That confounds me more

Making amends with the truth

Is like somersaulting on an open volcano

Where I fall so fast, that nobody can save me