Adulthood.
Light of liberty be glimpsed.
Fetters of family be gone.
Up and out, we finally see.
Eyes stretching afar.
Out of our well we shall climb.
Behold shall we the wonders beyond.
Stand as we on our own feet.
To walk the journey of Life.
A life to realize destiny.
A life to be content with.
Work shall we by sweat of our brow.
Live shall we to taste its sweet fruits.
Alas, we all dream of such.
Yet, those fruits elude most of us.
Whim of life, must it be?
Deprived are those, who most deserve to be.
Alas, our well never goes.
Wonders of this world, never beheld by us.
Yet into another well we plunge.
Bound be we by fetters of another.
The sweat of our brow we work by.
Only to see us rise above the rest.
Alas, the world isn’t our well.
Never shall we be the best.
Incredible is the irony!
Contentment be coveted, must we?
Sadly, who covet never be content.
Live do they, toiling till death.
The age enabling us to be free.
To behold this infinite world, as far as we can see.
Yet, in our lust, we stray.
Outside the well, where the answer lay.
