The sun shone on the school field
As it all lay out before me –
A bright prospect written on a golden apple –
And yet this is the reality.

..a bit **** really…

I was sold a lie spun by a weaver,
I did not catch his name,
Who took my firstborn dream
For a minimum-wage timeshare.

I’m angered by my idiocy.
Who am I, a Prince of the Estate,
To believe in happy ever afters
And the meritocratic lie?

Troy’s walls are lain siege
By the slings and arrows
Of others’ fortune until
We retreat to our place.

Dreams are merely adverts.
Richness becomes richer
As we forever chase rainbows
In the hope of a *** of gold

Only to find cigarettes of the soul –
False illusions. False illusions
Shattered into mirrored shards
Reflecting a broken man.

I am Prometheus – I stole the flame
Of Pandora and set it free
Only for doves to peck at my liver
And **** on my heart.