Falling Boxes

I had a close friend,
We were both young.

Things were simple,
Intentions, pure.

There was no desire to impress,
Just a desire to have fun.
There was no competition,
Only gladness and respect for skill.

There were no facades,
No prejudice,
And we knew none the better,
For the maturity we had not.

But we grew up,
Grew out,
Grew away,
Grew apart.

Now is only the desire to impress,
Fun mattering not, only ego.
Now is only the need to be better,
But only for ego and the need to impress.

Now are only facades,
Too much prejudice,
And he still doesn't know,
For the maturity he has not.

Am I the only one amongst us,
Making a valiant stand,
And trying to subvert,
My desire to impress others?

Or is it a foolish stand,
To think I can compete without,
Or compete outside,
Of my ever so insistent desire?

Am I the only one who feels,
With a perverted sense,
And is impressed by those,
Who do not seek to impress?

Am I the only one amongst us,
Seeking myself,
Finding my faces,
And making them one?

Why do I find myself,
As the only one who chastises
My own self when a thought
Of prejudice strays into consciousness?

What do I know,
From the maturity I have?
And what am I still lacking,
From the maturity I have not?

From where we came from,
We now differ.
Both with the same desires,
One following them, the other not.

I once had a close young friend,
But he's no longer young.

And I no longer know him.
Nor do I have a longing to.



Edit: I just realized that this post may come off as offensive. Just to clarify, the poem NOT about someone out there reading this. It's about two different sides of me, personified to both extremes, one of which I am suppressing.

If you thought it was about you then;
-I'm sorry
-It's not
-Siapa makan cili, dia rasa pedas