Deep Under
Deep under he is scared, scared of what could happen or what should happen. He is always on the edge, trying to achieve greatness in vain. He close his eyes and dream of himself being at the climax of his life, only to open them and realize that he is groveling in the dirt. Life is not a wish-making factory, there is no stairway to heaven, albeit, we aren’t sure if heaven is a concrete matter or a fantasy of a life’s suffering. Trying to carry his weight around on the Earth, he raise his head to glimpse of what he could become, if only he was someone else. Someone said to him “Someday you will take your own life, to leave a mark here in this world” and since then, he is scared, scared of what could happen or what should happen. He walks with a quick smile, a fading one. He jokes to make others think he is at peak shape, he plans his future with his loved ones, a lie in its essence. He plans ahead of what he knows he will not reach. His life is like a lit cigarette, the more ever