Crawling towards a goal,
Whilst the world drifts clueless,
Living in a hole,
I might be a bit less

Than what makes them happy,
I have often loud wondered,
Their lives could be crappy,
Hadn’t our makers blundered.

“If it were all a study,
What remains to learn?
What peeves you O buddy?
Don’t you have to earn?

What keeps you up at night,
Is it our content snore?
Or the very fact in light –
We don’t have to explore.

We can always work tomorrow,
So much time to kill,
Why do you sorrow?
Always another day to will.

And if we run out of days,
Who is to say we didn’t try?
Who is to know our ways?
We can get away with the lie.

What use is your passion,
When it doesn’t let you sleep?
Here, have some compassion,
If you really want to weep.

Our houses are built
With bricks of devotion,
With cement of guilt,
And an ounce of emotion.

We drink and dine,
Have our favourite wine,
Why stitch in time?
When we can still save nine.

Run around in circles!
It is fun to run wild,
When there are no hurdles,
And your whole life is mild,

And moderate and middling,
And nothing is extreme,
Things are a tad fiddling,
Isn’t that the dream?

We were born to hog,
And sleep till late,
An earth to clog,
Leave things to fate.”

I listen to them speak
With their odious acts,
No wonder they reek
Of some human facts.

I race against the flow,
Like a dying breed,
Against all the people I know,
Who would never heed

To the need to come out
Of their comfort zones,
To find the voice to shout
Over their torpid moans.

And go deep to find
A dead dream alive,
Still breathing inside,
Just go revive!