Introspection

I walked through the road

And not over it as you might think

The dust rose as it always does

And yet my eyes did not blink

All I could see was distance

And more and more of it ahead

For life is supposed to have twists and turns

In every road I fear to tread

The sides of the roads are a mystery

The sights and landmarks are so blurry

Will an image ever crystallize?

It never will, I do realize

I am born to be a wanderer

A person without a plan or care

Someone who sees no happiness

Nor does he expect it anywhere

Imagine what it must feel to feel so

When life holds no more of its pristine glow

When all that remains is curiosity

Of what the next day will bring about

Shallow ways to inject some levity

In a miasma of futility

That makes one feel he saw it all

That happiness is overrated after all

I always wake up with malaise

It’ll capture me till the end of my days

Mistake not this to be suicidal

For there is no better example

Of a desire to live

To live, more than to exist

To cry and laugh and to persist

With the emotional ties that we live for

Yet, emotion is what I feel no more

The emptiness of pragmatism screams

Through its cold silence; it beckons

Me to scream too, yet

This is something I cannot do

For we are born with some wiring

That makes us to someone’s bidding

Are our decisions truly our own

Or are they influenced by

Our circumstances, ties and bindings

Thus making us fatally prone

To crutches of feelings, and opinions

Of those other than our own

Humor seems to be my only crutch

It needs no emotion, no intimacy

I use it to draw a circle, which

Screams, “Keep away from me”

 

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