Dead Are Unimpressed

A cruel master
the ticking clock
So much potential
Get it done!

I rush past shadows
crumple the pages
failed attempts
mounting

What of dreams?
Of life’s destiny?
How I worship
at the altar of should

Even with positivity
fantastical notions fall short
I argue against uncertainty
meet only disapproval

There is no magic
no pre-destined fame
just dust gathering
The dead are unimpressed.

(Image my own)