In quietness, a handful finds its worth,
Than burdened hands, filled with toil and dearth.
The conflict within, the eternal fight,
Between who I am and who tempts me in sight.
Who wouldn't desire a higher living grace?
Yet, it brings torment to the human race.
Is this all there is? Where lies true meaning?
I gaze around, souls no longer gleaming.
Humans turned machines, always on the run,
Busy, hurried, with no time to feel the sun.
A solitary figure, no kin or brother,
Toiling endlessly, eye unsatisfied with riches' smother.
For whom does he labor, his soul bereaved?
An empty vanity, a travail deeply grieved.
Hedonistic pleasures, vanity in reign,
Significance lost, drowned in a material plane.
Money, the new measure of one's character,
A vast desert of souls lost, our society's grandeur.
Hope fades away, replaced by absurdity's plight,
Blindly following rules till death's eternal night.
The fallacies of our age, we cannot deny:
Standard of living, consumerism's cry,
Media's influence, shaping our desires,
The pursuit of a wrinkle-free life, beauty aspires,
And debts, chains that bind, our souls confined.
But if we stumble, there's a hand to uplift,
Woe to the lonely who fall, no one to gift
A helping hand, a friend in time of need,
Birds of a feather, together they succeed.
In a modern world, mono fidelity a test,
A lone runner tires, company brings zest.
While immersed in trends and empty chatter,
We fail to realize the weariness that shatters.
Yet, the greatest advice, a double-edged sword,
To be yourself amidst a world that tries to mold.
The greatest achievement, staying true and strong,
Amidst the constant pressure to belong.
I contemplate the living under the sun's glare,
The second child who follows, burden to bear.
Endless generations, yet no true rejoice,
Vanity and vexation, our eternal choice.