I breathe the breath of a poet Held hostage by mediocrity, Such indifference were the norm Of unwritten rules and irony.
Among the bushes roses Bloomed many, But few survived even a day or two, For they withered off With their thorns pierced Through their petals, Choking From the words of suits and ties That viewed the world as a monopoly game.
Child, you have two ears, but do not let the wind whisper into them with blind language.
Make your own path, And set foot on the road untraveled.