I listened to the sounds
Of my email notification.
Loud and piercing,
It almost blew up my phone.
I drink in the sound,
This sound is my hope ,
Of my future with a chance.
Me,
I am seated on a my torn couch,
Eating a loaf of bread and water,
The bread so dry ,
It scratches my throat it almost bleeds.
I am telling you these taste like
Chicken chimichuri and mashed potatoes,
If you are a bloody jobless youth
Trying to make ends meet.
I had tried many hustles.
I had applied many jobs.
The replies came,
There were few of them,
I hardly got a positive one.
Never one that offered me ,
A job or money.
And everyone loves money,
Even I love how it smells.
I tried writing,
Here I found a home.
" Does it pay" Macy my white collar job friend asks.
"Not yet ,
But I feel like Shakespeare,
Like Shakespeare Macy" I tell her.
Like I am the great symphony
Of the centuries that
needs to be heard."
I had called for favours,
From friends and family.
They can't get tired of helping me,
They can't give up on me.
Not me.
And see they almost did,
But then again,
They tried.
I Check the notifications,
It was a god-damned reminder ,
To pay some loan.
Madness of disappointment was chasing me.
My fear of failure was like a wildflower,
Growing in my head,
Blooming where it is not wanted.
I feel delayed.
Maybe this is what my parents are scared to tell me,
That I am trapped here,
In a future without a chance.
And nobody can save me.
Nevertheless I will chill,
And chill some more in this gap.
Before I trip,
Before I get my one shot ,
At my future with a chance.