The Meaning of Life

in poetry •  8 years ago  (edited)

In the morning I mourn,

For the freedom that evades me,

I awake to a wake, 

In remembrance of liberty,

By the weekend I am weakened,

Lack of zest in extremes,

For business keeps me busy,

Too busy to pursuit my dreams.


Forty hours a week,

We work to make them rich,

Dedicating our precious time,

To being their bitch,

We pay to survive,

On the land we were born,

Deceived by the fallacy,

Our lives  we must adorn.


iPhones to lampshades,

Buy this and buy that,

Your life will be complete,

When you have that new flat,

So now you feel special,

You've gained your "success",

You are now superior,

To those that have less.


Who gave us this life?

Who made us believe?

Our happiness is dependant, 

On what we achieve,

Look deep in your heart,

In there you may see,

The best things in life,

Have always been free.


Don't fall prey to the deception that life is about going to work so that you can buy more things.  


Please follow me for poetry


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This is really deep, mum. I told you that you should start doing poetry again.
I'll resteem it for you.

Thanks son

I really enjoyed this piece.

thank you.

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