people look at me and think
reckless, wanton, foolish.
sprinting through a journey that's
apparently the reason for living.
yet i was not born this way,
nor did i change overnight.
it was a slight, gradual change
whose origin anyone can say.
others' concern becomes trivial
and the risk always outweighs reward
when you can't think of it being so bad,
even if something goes wrong.
why is it the young are
so eager to die, and
forsake an unknown future,
bountiful happiness unforetold.
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