An account of my Foolhardy

Often I introspect and
Often I see a less wiser me.
More I go down the line,
More I feel ashamed of me.

For, this is an account of my foolhardies,
So I must dig down deep to
speak the upright truth.

I do not wish to rant about the regrets of life
For, not to be one of the wealthy,
Not even the one with a tag.
It's not even an ode to dejection
Of a broken heart.
All that holds value, less then
a mid night's dream to me.

But, I must accept the fact
how treacherous it is to
find that I almost lived decades,
As I was living in a fool's paradise.
Not in the pursuit of wisdom
But as the society goes by,
for a living better than somebody,
For the sake of some name etc.

For, almost every man will pick up
a silver coin whenever found,
But not GOLDEN WORDS which lay
around us in the form of
greatest Books of antiquity.

The words of scholars, 
That teach us the way of life
Not merely finding a job and then going back to stoneage of sort,
in terms of inner awakening.
But to find the simplest yet the most valuable meaning of life.

I don't advocate the only way of art and music but anything where you find the calling of your soul.
And the matter of fact is,
music and art is soul .
To be human and to know this is almost indispensable.

Alas! Often I introspect and
Often I see a less wiser me.
More I go down the line,
More I feel ashamed of me.

And I wish that I must not be slumbering all the way for the remaining time.
For, this is an account of my foolhardies
And I speak the upright truth.