Dedicated to a friend.
***
Dancing to the rhythm in the dead of night,
In the living room filled with shimmering lights,He contemplated how difficult he was to live with
That he himself wouldn't choose to do it.
Was it fair then to ask for companions and
Knowingly inflict his misery on them?
Holding a recently won trophy in one hand,
A tangible recognition for his diligent efforts,
And a glass of gin and tonic in the other,
A medicating herb to soothe his gnawing afflictions,
He evaluated if they would suffice
To fill the gaping void in his life.
A realisation swirled and settled
As he refilled his drink,
He wasn't a genius to begin with;
At best, a prodigy who wasted his potential.
It felt empty when he excelled at goals
That were mediocre by his own standards.
Mirroring the drink in his hand,
He had a glass half-empty view of things,
Tormented by what he didn't have,
Rather than cherishing what he did.
No amount of rain could satiate the desire
Of a desert that longed to be an ocean.
Like always, he had a lot to say but
Considered nobody worthy enough to say it to.
He fidgeted with his glass until
It slipped from his grasp and broke.
Insanely inebriated, he stepped on a piece.
Pain, a familiar friend, greeted him at daybreak.
***
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