Dying A Slow Death

When I was young, I learned to sprint

Though over the years, I began to walk

When I was young, I used to dream big

The things I uttered, the ambition that talked

Gave way to comfort

Washed away like chalk

I studied hard, perhaps too hard

I wore the necessary wigs

I was rewarded and admitted to college

But success too soon oft begets a failure down the line

Blinded by luck, I made ill with my time

Like water, I set course for the easy path

Trickled my way into the nice lazy river

Where I was neither the first nor the last

I later became an adult, so they say

Had a respectable job, judged by great pay

Did I do all that for this?

I did not know

But if nothing changed

I’d be middle-aged

Yet had died long ago

Alive, but dying a slow death.

So I sharply turned and I wandered

He’s insane they screamed, he lost his wits

He doesn’t understand privilege, the spoiled kid

But I could not live without ever trying

That he not busy being born is busy dying