Poetry

Ain’t Perfect Afterall

enyoscorner.com

I wonder how people face their demons’ daily

Without the next person having the slightest idea

I wonder how they are able to have them under control

So they do not consume them

 

I wonder if selfless people know what true joy is.

Little children I see run along the street

Screams and excitement fill their naïve souls

Makes me wish those screams from their voices were mine to scream

 

That I still have my naïve soul not poisoned by the cruelty of this world

If there had been a book on how adulthood is like.

One to tell us as little children the perfect pictured portrayed us ain’t perfect afterall.

And how we should have never been eager about being an adult

 

One to tell us you make more than a hundred choices a day

Each one if not thoughtfully made, may result us in the depth of misery and regrets.

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