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Who are we?
I follow a winding path
Yet it has no direction
I have a given task
Yet my result is full of imperfection
I have 11 years of life
Yet only 6 I remember
I spent all my time
Trying to be the top contender
But now I have general perspective
Of what a waste is the planet
Of how humans are simply a collective
Who convince themselves they have talent
But we will never see our true selves
As we will never see each-other
We will only see what we read from our bookshelves
And what we learned from our mother
So dear reader, I leave you
To the barren face of contemplation
You determine what is true
In this world of fictation
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A short, yet meaningful piece. I hope you enjoy!