Life is short. Life is weary.
Life makes us sweaty and teary.
A heavy head that falls on a pillow,
The air above us, weighing a thousand kilo.
And dreams, help us, sail across;
Cyclones and hurricanes, which aren't really a loss:
For hurdles make us stronger, and also give us a chance,
To work, improve, learn, romance.
And what it all boils down to at night,
is a hand to hold, a comforting sight.
And also the sound, of someone at rest.
A lot of laughter, and you pass the test.
But it's not really easy. Is it all a choice?
Forgo ambition, and rather choose poise.
I'm confused, as always, but know one thing for sure,
with ego, none of us, would find the cure.
So I guess, I'm okay, simply being me.
What the future brings, I'll leave to destiny.
I have time at hand. I don't want to waste it.
There's lot to explore, but I must try not to haste it.
Change is a must, for you and me.
Flaws must be fixed, with a frequent fee.
Work with me, and I'll try to be good.
I'll work with you, you know I should.
And now I shall end this silly poetry.
The interpretation will be yours, while I lie free.