Rivers of diligence flow here,
Pouring into the sea of the world,
Big fish, little fish, swim their hardest,
For the prize they think they deserve.
They put their best foot forward,
Stretched beside eager competitors,
But for some strides, not as strong,
Strength only deserving of silver.
Your trophy, your medal,
Manifested symbols of competition,
Pride and glory, never satisfied,
Only repressed to remission.
Iced poison slips down wet throats
Of children trying to be adults,
Too young to know regret,
Filling their emerged bodies with toxins,
In the name of appearances, names, false confidence.
Toxic fumes slips through the lungs
Of the child with a curious flame,
Inhaling a promise of death, voluntarily,
Smiling while gripping their chests, with burning eyes,
Covering dying lungs with masks of living life.
Characteristic fluids flow through bodily caverns,
Of children desiring a forbidden pleasure,
A bombardment of bodies and culminating feelings,
Surging emotions and abuse of the flesh,
Common cause of undeserved accomplishment.
My two hands, comrades in this,
Forced to the floor with weight from above,
Pushing my problems through the ground,
The same force pushes me up.
Salted memories flood from my pores,
Creating a shine of armour on my skin,
Backed by an army of endorphins and adrenaline,
Fighting the pain, for a little peace of mind.
Time has been spent, away from here,
Given to thoughts of reflection and anticipation,
Regrets overshadowed by towering desires,
Ambitions to drive one towards creation.
Plans for the future became clear as day,
Born from focus formed under philosophies,
Now I may return to life, from the abyss of absence,
To stamp out my mark in this reality.
Two pieces, broken from one,
Split by an unyielding force,
A line of imprint down the middle,
Separating cause and effect at the source.
So my heart grows, split among veins,
My brain, my thoughts, my feelings separate,
The emotion thoughts once caused has gone,
Slowly detached from the past, new bonds to create.
A dreadful thought of apathy
Mellows my mind in these times,
Noticing pains but lacking sympathy,
Predictability as much these rhymes,
Consequences of falsehood and dishonesty,
Tainting the honour of their tongues,
A world so strangely counter-productive,
Wishing for rights in acts of wrong,
Beneath rubble of shattered skin,
Cries of vanity echo along
Walls painted with their memories,
If the arsonists of burning buildings
Could be saved,
Would they be so deserving?
I wish we all got what we wanted,
All the things we worked for,
All the strains and sprains,
Pains caused by the redundant effort,
In hopes the end transcends the means,
Sadly it never went so easily,
Plans change, people change,
Some never get the chance,
So we, of luck, must do our best,
To better the world they left for us,
Carrying their dreams, their love, their legacy.