Common Man

and such is the common fellow
An inconsistent being
swaying between his different
wants silly nilly
and no order can be found
amongst the chaos laying in his heart
no light in his soul
at the damning, boring stage of 46

The world calls and the world calls
telling of the zuckerburgs
and of luxury
and of respect and
Of, oh what’s that,
dare I Say it,
Happiness.

Everlasting
joy at the
end of those
pair of
shoes
walking
down the
street like a boss
to pick up an
overpriced coffee, even
though he doesn’t like
coffee,
and sit in that car that he hasn’t payed off to go to a
job that’s draining him
Of what youth he had left at 46.
But, ah!
The world is just a millimetre away
from his grasp,
happiness unrestricted is right there.

Right where?

 

-Malaika Abid

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