Boulevard

It’s wierd, isn’t it?

For all my life I yearned for Fame,

Fortune, Pounds, Bliss,

And Name.

I opined I’d love the camera flash,

A groovy home and a car,

And some people close to heart,

A perfect life in every hour.

But having had all I wanted to,

I wish all should become rich and famous,

And get all they had desired for,

So that they may fathom,

It’s not what they had craved for.

It’s wierd, isn’t it?

For this tempting life is hard,

Full of turns, doubts and remorse,

But one must keep treading on the Boulevard.

This post is in response to The Daily Post – LUXURY