Life is strange,
sometimes I feel deranged,
a square peg in a round hole,
imprisoned for life without parole.
Destined to wander these city streets,
a nomad between dying trees
and expanding concrete,
a smitten wasteland.
The bleak portrait of modern man:
the stagnant breeding ground for
mediocre plans and lukewarm revelations,
recycled art and weak inspirations,
old conclusions reached by new explanations.
The ancient wisdom forgotten and replaced
by watered-down mainstream sensations.
This reality is binding me,
a spiderweb of memory:
of both victories and cold defeat,
of ecstasy and agony,
a kaleidoscope of sentiment,
ever-shifting, writhing, breathing, bent
and distorted by self-interest.
Mental defense mechanisms
protect and limit, repress the worst,
forget the minute my mind went cold,
reeling with emotion, on my knees
and weeping in humility.
Knowing the past is gone and future free
is a harsh yet joyous liberty, so
I’ll keep my chin up, still wandering
and wondering if one day I’ll find home.
This is the first poem I ever wrote when I was a sophomore in college. I tried to express the angst and discomfort that I felt living in a society that felt so foreign and toxic to the natural order of things. I like to reflect back on it from time to time, as it captures a certain segment of my youth perfectly. Please leave me a comment letting me know if you can relate to the feelings expressed, or if you felt similar during your early adult years.
Much love, 
Photo of me around the time that I wrote this poem. If you look closely you can see the attitude represented in this poem in my facial expression.
