The Disease of Expectation...

 The Disease of Expectation... 

This is a disease, a silent decay,

To expect from others, day after day.

To say, "The world should be like this,"

"The world should offer that and this bliss."

It creeps in slow, this fatal thought,

That life owes you what it has not.

You sit, you wait, you curse, you pine—

While time keeps flowing down the line.

It means you're finished, hollow inside,

A drifting shell, where dreams once died.

No hunger left to shape, to strive,

No spark to set your soul alive.

You’ve traded action for complaint,

Your strength, now dulled by bitter paint.

The mirror shows a fading fire,

Once burning bright with raw desire.

But life’s not bent to fit your mold—

It’s wild, untamed, both harsh and bold.

So rise again, break free, renew—

Let go of "them"—come back to you.