lost

when everything comes to a head.
progress becomes an apparent illusion.
when you strip the veneer
and expose the raw truth.
and then u realise that genuine progress
was never made.

i wish i never was made like that.
i wish i had a better nurturing environment.
coz dealing with this imperfect situation
drains the life out of me.

i am tired.
displaced.
in the diaspora of things
that pervade my sense of being.

i hate being reminded of all i am.
why i am the way i am.
the way i behave. the things i do.
good or bad. all for a reason.
a reason that i abhore.

where superficiality reigns the day.
and all that i desire exists
on the opposite side.
i suppose the other side of the fence
is always greener.
but mine's a parched desert.
with nary a shade of greenish candour.

from dust i come. to dust i go.
i can hardly wait.
wait for that day of beckoning to come.
to take me home.
to the home where all's perfect.
perfect in His love.