The Chaotic Survival

The world that I, almost, own

Hanging on a thread of luck

Working hard, lazying off

Time goes by, I remain stuck.

 

The world where I am, almost, happy

Just after crossing last hurdle

I will win, only if last remains last

And, chronology doesn't reshuffle.

 

The world where I am, paradoxically, free

Make my own choices but

Bounded with choices imposed on me

And, life restricted in shell-nut.

 

The world where I take, so much, pride

In my existence, in my surviving

No time to hum in solitude

Chaos has become my living.