Existential Crisis
He steps up to the plate
He takes centre stage
He breathes in the foul air
Because it is all the rage
He marries young
He has two kids
Takes a job so he can live
Whatever that does mean
He drinks and smokes
Takes unnecessary risks
Doesn't think things through
He opts but doesn’t pick
His crisis looms
He wants more
He feels the rut of his choices
His options long ago were rather staid
He sees the world differently
He sees the world limiting his is
Calibrated by circumspect
Owned by societal bliss
An existential crisis looms
Mass hysteria paves the way
“You are so different than all the others
Why must you be this way?”
Will it ever end?
The rhythm goes on an on
Playing with his head
Same old familiar song.
Copyright 2024
by Bill Ferguson
All Rights Reserved
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