The early twenties.
can’t write anymore about the beauty life has to offer.
It’s like every hope in my life is gone forever.
I don’t have any rhymes to make. My brain is off.
All the dreams I had, I watched them disappear.
It’s even sick to write about this, too intimate.
But at least I always thought poetry was about that.
Intimacy is about sharing your feelings with strangers.
So here’s another amateur writer doomed to failure.
My work is too depressive, nothing commercial.
But at least I hope someone can relate to my words.
Being in your early twenties, for me, is the worst stage in life.
All you do is compare your achievements with the people you know.
Social media, the most harmful thing humanity has created.
It just works to make you feel you’re not doing enough.
Your love life, the way you look, you will never achieve that perfection.
Or at least the perfection they try to portray in their accounts.
In the early twenties, they say you have your whole future ahead of you.
But why do I feel my time is running up? Is the clock ticking faster?
I’m afraid of spending this stage of my life in this state of mind.
