play, pause, replay

parade of the damned

failure is a cigarette burn on a polyester couch, 

an excruciatingly slow sizzle through the fine

fabric of your dreams, watching skyscrapers grow 

from the cracks in the pavement, while i stand 

here shoveling dirt from my grave. 

the city's heartbeat pulses beneath my bleeding

feet, a rhythm of winter laughing

as my bones ache from the grind.

it's a goddamn circus, 

even crown with a fucking diploma

juggling success like they know the

street while i'm scraping by; rusty

knife against an old bone, hoping for

a miracle that ain't ever going to come.

petty failures, the tiny deaths,

they pile up like empty beer cans in the 

back-alleys, each one a whisper in the

wind, "you're a fuck-up, a loser, not 

worth the ground you walk on."

i've seen the sun dip lower and lower, 

the horizon swallowing it whole, 

a cosmic joke,

while the moon, that fickled bitch, rises 

and takes her throne — all glitter and 

lies — promising dreams that

shatter like glass on asphalt.

i'm here,

pouring my soul into the grind,

while the world keeps spinning,

a mad carousel of broken minds

and i'm stuck, nailed to this cross,

watching others soar on wings of smoke.

the deserving go unnoticed

in this age of plastic faces and

empty accolades. they talk of success

like it's something you can buy,

a cheap suit you can slip into,

but i know better.

success is a ghost,

haunting the back alleys, 

a whisper in the dark,

and me,

i'm just the street sweeper, 

cleaning up the confetti 

after the parade,

wondering

where the fuck 

it all went wrong.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N: This poem is born from the grit and grime of real life. It's a reflection of the struggles that most of us face, myself included. Sure, some folks might have a smooth ride from the get-go, but for the rest of us, it's a rocky road full of obstacles. And those obstacles? They don't just make life harder—they make you harder, stronger, and better prepared for whatever crap gets thrown your way.

Never lose hope. This world doesn't give a damn about anyone unless you've got power or money. There's politics in every corner, corruption in every shadow, and bad shit happening all around. But know this—you're not alone in your suffering. We're all in this mess together. So don't lose hope, don't give up. Keep fighting, keep grinding. Your strength, your resilience, that's what truly matters.