GREY

On the outside looking in, but invites to step inside, will simply get declined, he oddly feels content with his position… He takes a few steps back, to get a better view of the dark clouds, that crowd his minds Vison, this only reinforces his disposition…

He attempts to move forward, as those dark clouds turn to thunderous showers, he feel stuck as he ponders for hours, too bold to be scared. Too smart to be brave, a rebellious child seeking permission… from a source of uncertainty… For all eternity bound to be enslaved by the things he cannot change… Now there seems to be no shelter from the storms rage… He puts on a show, even though, the storms ever growing flow, has made him outlandish at that stage. A tired man, at young age

The showers turn to floods, the storms refuse to subside, and the time has come to decide… Will he sink or swim… The future is as unclear, as the water he chokes in, yet the past he cannot forget… He takes a gulp of the water he treads, as he realises, not choosing is a choice he now regrets…he tries to jostle, but only causes a few splashes and bubbles, Stuck between previous struggles, and future riddles….timelessly floating…

in the middle…

Fruition 

What is a personality. There’s no longer anything personal about it. We’re nothing but the reflections of society that we need to be. Born free, we enslave our selves to bills and fees. In the quest for pay rises and uni degrees. We chase a “better life” although the term remains undefined. We all seem so eager to fall in line, Our individuality becomes undermined…


What good is a first impression, when self expression is reduced to a prosaic mosaic, made from, the broken pieces of freedom, we flee from. We’re obliged to conform. Stray never too far from the norm.
though this persistent resistance defies the very nature to which we were born. Torn, Our existence is now based on a need to belong…
We follow another mans plans to strive for the upper hand, As we fail to understand how to meet lifes demands.spite and envy, occupy the earths atmosphere, like the oxygen we respire, it runs through our systems.


We are all victims, of the day to day stress, as we dress to impress, under discrete duress. Work till were depressed. Ruined by the influence of affluence, when we were all born blessed… 


We must try not to forget, in this life full of regrets. Being who you really are is the only true success.  

chidi3s ©