There are only a few people
I'd trust to:
resite my deepest poem

So few people to flip over my heart
on the worth of a coin

When you have so many idol's
who eventually seem so idle on inspiration

You think you know your heroes
Until they fail
to only then realize—
we're all still human

Sometimes foolish

To be around so little people, to remind
you it's ok in a harsh occasion

But lately that's what I've come to find
realest in all my unreal imagines
And choosing to still be happy in all
the strangest of happenings

Tell me who hasn't met daily tragedy

When you've done so much
but it never feels like enough,
or whether you've given it your best start

As when you've been fooled into
being a successful man early, is mandatory
                   "Better know how to provide
                                        for your family"

I'm still stuck on the idea of providing
for self
And the selfish me, of wanting to enjoy
my wealth by myself

Call me selfish for seeking
my own independence

Till I rest my case,
I guess I'm destined to be restless