Selfish

It’s selfish to be happy, or so I am told,

the world needs go-getters, ambitious and bold.

Improve the world, make a difference, it’s what you’re to live for.

Wear this mask, call it service, and you’ll never be poor.

But how could I improve the world, such a task can’t be done,

For the world is 4.54 billion years old, and I’m just 31.

Who am I to know the way things are supposed to be?

Such a perspective is truly naive, from one who so small a world can see.

You cannot improve what’s already perfect,

But many have tried, and therein lies the defect.

That road has been paved with good intention,

But its route leads only to death and destruction.

So pursue personal pleasure, is this what I’m to do?

Of course not! For that path is empty of meaning too.

Rather than fix the world, seek simply not to hurt Her.

Our interference is the culprit, it’s passion and fervor.

To sacrifice for the world just doesn’t seem right.

Improvement should be uplifting, not a struggle or fight. 

Life knows best, neither you nor I could contest.

So relax and rejoice, and leave selfish striving to the rest.