Fruits of Youth

The life of second guessing that flourishes from the seeds of doubt planted in your youth

 

Through gnashing teeth or beguiling smiles

All creating a den of insecurity from their insincerity

 

Laden in yolk from the crowd’s egg throws

Humiliation and shame then takes it foothold. Then you look old.

 

With nothing having sold in this world of consumerism

You begin to wonder at your own personal value and wisdom. “Why can’t I sell myself in this system of Capitalism?”

Drowning. You drown into a state of self loathing, strong enough to feel like a poison

Death calling you like it’s your only freedom

 

But yet, something shines on your pitiful soul and you cry “Namaste”

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