Blame not ambition
when your eyes brim with a longing
a strong yearning to ascend
that slays many in your wake
leaving you to the coddling of self gratification.
When you plunge headlong in to the undefined
only to discover your already moulded self in the slime of society
retreat you think you must, but will yourself repellant to such thought
and establish an acceptable existance.
The moulded decay to fit in the slime.
A glance in the past,
awashes you with a much despised nostalgia
that wisdom bids you to embrace.
You daren't.
Your mind perceives your filth and
your conscience is repulsed
your will in fright..
the blame ought to go somewhere.
Ambition!
Blame not ambition.
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