Youthfulness is a drug

[humble soul]

addicted to my body
a slave to the flesh
tried to sculpt the perfect face
Must always look fresh

I didn't see my lack of depth
My myopia was bad
Had some weird obsession
About finding the perfect music venue

I was looking for Heaven on Earth
Maybe I could survive
As a rock journalist
Such was my naivety

I thought others were obsessed with how they looked
Yet I loved the less obsessed
Superficial splendour
Was my game
Anyway

 

[humble soul]

There's a good poem in me
Somewhere
I just need a mentor
He doesn't have to be bent or
Weird or anything like that

 

[humble soul]

A twenties/thirtees body keeps you trapped in materialism and consumerism and ambitionism.
You aren't done with worldly ambition. "Maybe I can still leave my mark. Maybe I could be a movie star after all. Maybe I could run a successful business. Maybe I need to study at college again. Maybe I'm suited to a different partner. Maybe I'm more awesome than I first thought."
Such is the state of your feeble mind.