Just a confused person, or maybe a restless mind,
It might be the mind, but I know the person is kind.
And honestly, I don’t really mind,
Because life’s a race—
We all run at our own separate pace.
Or maybe it’s a cage, where we hide our rage.
Is it the experiences we’ve gathered,
That shaped the way we’re now scattered?
Once a fine student, now a master procrastinator,
Didn’t we all use to dream of being greater?
But as they say, experiences shape our lives,
It’s fine, though, till the struggle survives.
We carry the weight of what others plant in our heads,
When all we want is a soul to hear what’s unsaid.
To ask, “How do you feel? How was your day?”
But do we find that person? No, not today.
Yet, is it the end of us? Hell no!
Are these just random thoughts? Yeah, so?
Will I share them anyway?
HELL YEAH!
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