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At first I thought I was born to succeed, Which was good and great because I lack luster for greed To give and to cherish was largely my creed, Life blooms everywhere so why covet its seed? For shame and for glory, my truth was a story. A story, not a fable, one with use in its cradle No. Not my truth, my feeble fiction. That to give and to gain was no contradiction. With strong head and strong body I’ve wasted my days, To think beau intention wouldn’t lead me astray. You see I’ve done all I could in the space of this mind, To unravel the hope to create world’s in kind. Eureka! I had it, for one second’s perception, A prospect in favour of catastrophic direction. Though its gone I still taste it, like the vacuum in glass, My pious mis-deception that my chance has not passed.
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Feb 17, 2020
Feb 17, 2020 at 10:30 AM UTC
Burrichson
100 miles behind the starting line
At first I thought I was born to succeed, Which was good and great because I lack luster for greed To give and to cherish was largely my creed, Life blooms everywhere so why covet its seed? For shame and for glory, my truth was a story. A story, not a fable, one with use in its cradle No. Not my truth, my feeble fiction. That to give and to gain was no contradiction. With strong head and strong body I’ve wasted my days, To think beau intention wouldn’t lead me astray. You see I’ve done all I could in the space of this mind, To unravel the hope to create world’s in kind. Eureka! I had it, for one second’s perception, A prospect in favour of catastrophic direction. Though its gone I still taste it, like the vacuum in glass, My pious mis-deception that my chance has not passed.
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