Prance about as much,
high on the stilts of success
unsteady
Or roiling in pain
suffering that
which ain't
All the ambitions, all the aims
that turned true
or tuned you down hopeless
Some ringing the lonely tune
of regret, of not having tried
this or that
Clinking of coins,
rustling of papers of colours varying
that made you cling
All that you amassed
and all that you hoped
yet didn't
Not one, not all
can barter you
one (more) sunrise
Of the many you missed
burying the heart and head
minting miseries
In the walls of heights
and shapes varying
some with roofs touching your head
Others with ceilings beyond the skies
that you chose as your desired
and deserved penitentiary
To while away
the sentence of life
adrift on mediocrity
None of them will bear your presence
any longer
than your days limited
Before long you will
lie forever
under the soil
The only place without
patience ever wearing out
for you, ingrate.
When the greatest equaliser of all
The death strikes success
unfailing for posterity
Mocking your success
that turned trifles,
at the altar of death
For which you spent
all your life, unlived,
dead long before dying
Unrealised you were toiling
for the master ruthless
yet ever the kind
that death is.
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