In a world of chaos.
Chaos, filled with reflections of narcissism.
Reflections donning fashions of flattery.
I don a different hat, that of ambition and desire,
Ambition, to take a tough road to joy.
Road, on which seldom I meet a traveller.
So seldom, that I miss a voice of encouragement.
A voice, only my father speaks with.
Father, you cherish my life with love.
A love, which is unparalleled in this scheme of humanity.
Humanity, which frowns upon the misfits, gleams to the fitted gloves.
Gloves, that hide the hypocrisy in themselves.
In them, they see the world.
See, that is not how it works.
Work with a different shoe box,
Do not box those thoughts of epiphany.
That thought will strangle you to insanity.
Insane as the misfits.
Because, a fit that you miss.
Is the miss you forever belong.