Expectations

Expectations must be the mothers of the strongest misery
And most of us have suckled on their firm breasts.
Too much anticipation is sometimes a little scary
But when desire seizes the mind, it rarely rests.

Growing up, we expect more love than hate
Because when young, the world seems at peace with us and itself.
As we become adults, the real world opens before us its gate
Into this new life where there’s more scorn than help.

We expect our dreams to come true
Despite the little efforts we inject in.
When they die,  one by one, the choices we’re left with are few
And the pains of our failures shatter us from within.

We expect to stride on successful feet
Since success makes men of more worth
And earns them respect from those they meet
But the possession of lips doesn’t mean we all mirth.

We love and expect to be loved back just as much
Assured by “Give and you’ll receive”
Yet there’s no guarantee of such
Though it’s a thing we’ve not learned to believe.

But since expectancy is inevitable
It ought to be minimal to yield less glumness.
High expectations aren’t advisable
As failure to attain all you longed for might drive you into sudden madness.

What do you think?

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I am afraid to tell the world I am a virgin.

Self-pity