The outside world is a daunting place filled with uncertainty and fear,
Where everyone is in a rush, with no time to stop and hear,
As we chase for success, our true selves get lost in the chaos,
Our hopes and dreams are lost in the endless game.
In this gruelling grind, I feel like a tiny cog,
A small and insignificant part of the bigger machines,
A mere pawn in the game of life, or a small piece to the larger puzzle,
A fleeting thought, an insignificant piece, so easy to replace and forget.
The world outside can be cold and cruel,
A never-ending chase in this rat race,
Where success is measured by wealth, beauty, and fame,
And for those who lack or falter, we don’t fit within this game.
Am I not enough? in this everlasting race,
Locked in a gas chamber waiting for my demise,
They’ll take us out one by one,
Until perfection has won.
Yet nobody truly wins the rat race,
We pick each other off one by one,
And one day even the last one will be gone
And then we will be left with none.
Life seems to be a game that is not meant to be won.
Thank you for visiting and reading.
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© Samantha Johnson 2024. All Rights Reserved.
