Adulthood is someway a misnomer,
Age carries the burden of happiness.
Mistakes are the sugary coated icing over desires,
Like the diving plunge into nothingness.
Revolving judgments always returns to the owner,
As the veracity meet its demise to hope.
The potent pushes of beliefs often grow us…
Into a person we abhor to be.
Negating the very presence of maturity,
Makes one closer to being emancipated.
As the chase itself excites us,
Till we win to end or start to die.
Anything but love is overrated,
As reckoning it does not suffice;
Levitating ones soul to happiness…
Make the chains more tensile.
Before we step onto this bemused world,
Let us just ask ourselves a question…
Do we really want to be one of them?
Or the door of possibilities still open!
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