A struggle seems omnipresent,
irrespective of the parties involved,
irrespective of the circumstances involved,
fear there always is of being left behind.

The ones who step out,
do so at a cost great.
Happy one might be with the decision made,
but dampened are spirits by those around.

Unable to accept they are,
that one can be satisfied with a life humble.
The ability to know your place,
is belittled by the word weak.

But oh look at the hypocrisy!
Declare they might, that incompetent you are.
Gloat they will, over you lack of passion.
And on the inside rot they with envy.

Because they know,
down there in their shallow depths.
That happy you are,
that at peace you are.

To survive is not the the way for all.
The way is to live for some.
To live without bounds,
to indulge in what the heart desires.

The popularised picture of Purpose,
is just a driver miserable taking you to a goal,
a point defined as success,
actually being a point of no consequence.

And thus the whole struggle,
lacks one crucial element,
the meaning which we all search for.
And thus I fly free.