Jack of All Trades
"Your work is spectacular!"
"I've never seen anything as good as you so far!"
From east to west,
Voices applaud how I am the best among the rest
But where is my time for rest?
Medals, trophies, and accolades
They all reflect the image I try to always portray
Perfect from head to toe
Flawless and can never reach the low
Must be great to swim life by just following its flow
Without the self-hatred thrown and pressure blown
Pages were ripped from the calendar
As the thunder constantly hit the jar
With thoughts of how I am doing so far
And how every bit of effort seems to be out in the air
Lost and will never be adequate to fill
Fill the lungs with oxygen that I need to feel
Feel that somehow I have done something worth keeping
Academics and the creatives
Are both of the areas I conquered
Compliments and declarations of others' satisfaction
Are the places where my world revolved
Skills were gained with the mixture of blood, sweat, and teardrops
With all the possible knowledge about this earth in my mind,
How do I end up still clueless?
Clueless of what I am made for
Unaware if it's my personality that they adored
Or is it just the fruits they can harvest from my labor
Or maybe the doors of opportunities they can enter in for themselves
Someone could be a mediocre at a field
Yet with determination, she learned and devoured its crops
Longing poured all over me as I stare at the mirror
Where is the fuel of passion that ignites me?
These eyes once held the exact same determination
But where is my purpose now?
I cannot find it among the rusting frames of my awards
Or behind the curtains of my closet of dusted talents
How can a hero fit all the existing capes
But never ends up wearing any of them?
How can a writer think of everything
But has put nothing down his paper?
How can a king possess excessive wealth and power
But he is never powerful enough to buy himself a fulfilling life?
I guess that's how Jack traded his soul
In return of people's fulfillment but never his own
- louvingly
YOU ARE READING
Corners of Circles
شِعرAmong the consuming circles, its corners are what I search for. Corners to silence my cacophonies, corners to sit and hug my knees at as I end my loop. For every direction my compass turns to, here I remain spinning on a wheel of the fantasy I've bu...
