What I used to crave
Has now lost its pleasure;
I have dipped into the abyss
Of emptiness in life’s glitzy amusements.

I have access and power
To what had seemed far from reach.
Pity me! I take freedom for granted
Unlike those uncountable souls past
Who chiseled history to now.

Believe me, I have jested with struggle
But not for day-to-day freedom
Of choice
To grow my character.

I meet my carnal needs
So want flushes me
With the drive for more.
As if I can’t be satisfied
For a breathing moment.

No more do I receive
Gifts the same.
I know I will live for my birthday
The luxury of how I live
Taken for granted through the years.

Instead of indulging in the anniversary of my birth
I consider the significance of life.
No more is it a brainless fun
Where I ignore what I cannot see.

No more do I receive
The day in childish anticipation.
Eagerness exists still, but when it wills
To water the blood inside
My soul, a life I leave starving.

Road trips neither blast my pulse
Nor weigh as a burden.
I am only more familiar
With land connectivity,
Surprising my sense of location lesser.

Instead of looking at my belongings
With a thankful tone
I mumble: “There’s dust on this!
That takes up space”
And mourn the items
That enslave me to them.

“Can’t you be happy?” most retort me.
Yes, but growth shall have its share
Of struggle
Thinking this phase as death itself.