Free (Poem)

You’ll never be free.

You were never meant to be

Your goals and aspirations

Are prone to mutations

That make it impossible to feel fulfilled in your current situation

One step up reveals an entirely new staircase

That you will either conquer and face

Or formulate an ego that allows you to convincingly lie about the fact that you’re jealous of who’s standing in that place

That place isn’t any better

But at the same time, it’s better than yours

So there you sit, constantly banging on opportunity’s doors

But when that door opens, it won’t reveal a beautiful room

Just another door, promoting all the great things that one day you’ll hopefully consume

This will continue until your productivity

Gives way to physical antiquity

And your vessel sinks in the oceans of time due to rising toxicity