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