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.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 2:00 AM UTC
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.
