The Curious Case of the 20’s

Staring at his phone for any news, good or bad

That’s how his day started; for the most part

He thought he had his life sorted out and planned

Back when he was a wide-eyed college brat

But now, he wasn’t sure of who or what he was

His plans all scattered to the wind, or worse

Nothing happened the way he envisioned it

And he started to lose all sense of purpose


The morning train chugged along it’s course

The only solace for our lonely hero in peril

The sounds and sights soothed his mind a little

For his mind was an fluctuating vortex of ideas

Ideas that could be successful or total deuces

He had no way of knowing which was which

He was too scared to try, for fear of failure

He was no Edison, that much was sure


As he typed away at his report for his pay

He felt a slight tinge of pain enveloping him

He was the boat without any rudder to sail

He was the compass that couldn’t point north

Even he tried to dig out of the grave he fell in

But there was nary a sliver of light of hope

But he kept on digging from his endless grave

Hoping for a miracle that eluded him for ages

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