The Tragedy We Built

​Am I truly okay? Do I seem well? I do the normal things everyone does, But I still crave more Desire more. ​I still feel like I’m not enough. I still feel I want more, So much more. Call me greedy, but I want what you have And even more than what you own. Is that a hunger for success, Or envy disguised as cravings? I sit here and ask: Is this what I feel? ​Call me crazy, but I want fulfillment. I want to be rich, I want a beautiful bride and wisdom. I want fame, I want power. I want to be a distraction, But also the reason why someone becomes successful, Just not as successful as me. ​I walk with my shoulders high. Pride, is that you? Why should your opinion count when mine sounds perfect? Why should you be seen when I have not been seen? Why should I remit every money I’ve been asked to share? ​I don’t hate you, but I put me first. That is what I was taught. That is what I was told survival is. I watch people do it, so why not me? ​Is that right? I don’t know. Will it take me to heaven? Yes, it should I am successful. My religious leaders celebrate successful people Without knowing how we do it, So why won’t I go to heaven? I am blessed—I keep getting blessed, Even if others are suffering.​This is what the world taught me. My heart weeps, Because how do we end this TRAGEDY WE BUILT