When you are young you are free of spirit
You float and glide
Your heart is pure and kind
You grow and become cynical
You do to attract
You act to fit in
The free spirit is chained and weighed down by life's burdens
The brain or the mind?
They become so unkind
You laugh and connect, only to get the rewards you yearn for
Nothing is done for you anymore
Progression is fuelled by the green, mean monster
You search for the deeper meaning to seem intellectual but you turn a blind eye to the person you once were
Honesty turns to political correctness
Your own thoughts are tainted
Creativity is somewhat juvenile or contrived
Conditioning squishes all free thought
Bouncy castles trigger nostalgia
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Author:
Ed (
Offline) - Published: October 22nd, 2017 09:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- User favorite of this poem: ashleymello.
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