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Miles he has come,

Light years yet remain,

Filling the aware traveller with disdain.

Standing at the branches,

Is a luxury long gone,

All that is ahead,

Is the blank canvas of mourn.

The reciprocity of life,

The quid pro quo of the world,

And change are the three truths he accepts,

For he is free behind the lies.

The irony has not gone amiss,

Shining on the glaring billboards,

Asking you to be yourself,

With a deft recommendation

of a way to change self.

And yet behind the irony lies reality;

Be yourself if you happy,

Be yourself if you desirable,

Be yourself if you kindle envy.

He looks around and he sees people,

Taking the same route,

Each thinking they went off the beaten track,

Yet striving for the averages of society.

All moving with same hope but different goals,

Till a chasm opens,

Some fall, some stay,

But the crowd moves on.

With a mirthless smirk,

He begins to trudge,

Raising his hood to hide his grudge.

For the world belongs to the masses,

And the masses belong to the chase,

The cycle of a never-ending phase.

Finally he can scream,

he can scowl,

for he is free behind the covering cowl.

-by Tripper Baboon

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TripperBaboon: Reads, criticises, eats, sleeps. He can found at tripperbaboon.wordpress.com

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