Expectations: A poem 

The semantics of a language that doesn’t resonate 

gives me no libido for material aspiration. Virtue comes  

like an arrow from the bow of lack of expectations 

I don’t drink from wells of devalued character 

A fortress is built from an immaterial soul. I know, 

the billionaire can be one-billionth of the pauper 

Palaces fall into the sinkholes of time 

Even destiny walks out on a celebrity with age 

I see, that good people don’t drop you 

even when they can get nothing out of you 

And wolves have a penchant for eating, even bones 

They never give up a pursuit of the most valuable 

I have laughter, not from cynicism, but from awareness 

I laugh like a brook whose course never runs out 

like trees that don’t freeze in cruel ironical winters 

But I think, how can you expect me to sabotage my toil 

just because you think I must fulfill your expectations