Finding Truth

Change strolls in like an uninvited guest,
rearranging dreams without a care,
while happiness hums from deep inside.
Time, that thief, won’t grant you rest,
slipping through fingers, light as air,
while struggles lurk, so deftly denied.
We chase control, a phantom jest,
but life just shrugs—it's never fair,
and in the end, we’re all just tired.
Pretending not to be expired.

Failure grins like an old cliché,
promising growth but bringing pain,
as patience waits in endless lines.
Control’s a myth we chase away,
a fragile hope we can’t sustain,
while dreams dissolve like cheap red wine.
Regret is free, but still we pay,
and kindness, though it soothes the strain,
is never quite enough to heal.
It’s just a bandaid on the wheel.

Love, they say, is hard-earned grace,
requiring effort, endless care,
but effort’s tiring, love runs cold.
Success demands a faster pace,
yet talent’s scarce and life’s unfair,
as luck decides who takes the gold.
We chase applause, we mask our face,
convincing all that we don’t care,
while deep inside, we yearn to be,
someone worth the irony.

Forgiveness whispers like the wind,
a soft illusion sold for free,
while grudges stick like stubborn glue.
Comparison will keep us pinned,
we measure lives in misery,
forgetting that we’ve paid our dues.
Perspective shifts but won’t rescind,
the creeping weight of all we see,
so here we stay, we sit, we stare,
pretending that we just don’t care.

Life’s a joke we laugh away,
dressed in dreams that rarely fit,
and truths we dodge but can't outrun.
Success is fleeting, so they say,
while time erodes both charm and wit,
and peace is hard to find in fun.
So here’s the truth we can’t betray,
we try, we fail, we throw a fit,
and in the end, there’s nothing new,
just life, and me, and maybe you.