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Chaos

World that I, almost, own
Hanging on a thread of luck
Working hard, lazying off
Time goes by, I remain stuck.

World where I am, almost, happy
Just after crossing last hurdle
I will win, only if last remains last
And, chronology doesn't reshuffle.

World where I am, paradoxically, free
Make my own choices but
Bounded with choices imposed on me
And, life restricted in shell-nut.

World where I take, so much, pride
In my existence, in my survival
No time to hum in solitude
Chaos has become my living.

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