Tell me what you see at the feast of life. Is it exclusively exquisite? Does it drip when you bite A hot golden ooze Gilding all around you? To that short sighted Egotistical mindset It will not matter when the feast ceases. It is there in your mind; A rejection A cruelness An unwanted feeling. The truth of it is maddening. Again you return To childish ways. The stress is barely worth the gain. What is there to gain? Nothingness, not fame. Dancing left footed far away Minding your steps. This foot is far from oral fixation. Only silence and outwardly memorizing. Mesmerized by nothing. It is only the twofold thought of succeeding in place.