The flames of life engulfed all you had stored up. Nothing remained, as nothing warned you of the impending dangers. So you look and ask self, “What happened to the lofty standards I beheld? I am worse than the homeless guy out there.”

With no regard for human life, you have no soul to empty your miseries upon. No one cares because you gave no one a chance. They all seemed like stepping stones other than colleagues.

Now the times bite. You wish you had died the day your son passed on. Sadly, you are here, here to dance to all the ugly tunes you unconsciously produced. The lyrics and tunes are bitter, but there is no way out.

I hope, really hope, that you will pick a leaf from it all. That unlike in the past, you will turn the corner for better.

Posted on Daily Post – Lofty, Flames


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