The hand you’re dealt on being born

The transience of this spread

Just circumstance; it’s nothing more

The Universal thread

Which path? Only you can discern

With your compass of freewill

Believe you’re perfect as you are

Taking stock, by standing still

Do you feel the odds are stacked

In other people’s favour?

A battle between your heart and mind

Will always make you waiver

Oscar Wilde said it once

His words are not mistaken

You can only ever be yourself

As everyone else is taken