19/7/2021
Slouched on a couch waiting for a miracle;
for am I not the chosen one,
whose life will change with the flick of a wand?
all this forced motivation drives the knife of
procrastination even deeper, as the brain is overwhelmed
by the constant commands disguised as guidance
causing subsidence underneath my feet,
from the burden of this inherited responsibility.
All I want is to be happy in a world that endlessly demands,
marketing mental subjugation as one's life fascination;
a lifetime of unfulfillment it trendily brands.
Driving our dreams to suicide,
replacing them with realism and practicality,
so we can barely survive.
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ
Poetry𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨 (n.) 𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘤 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯; 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘰𝘯 Poems posted daily, for every day of the year. Works of an undefined theme with a touch of fantastical elements as well as a healthy dose of r...
