Poem: Confined in freedom

How strange is the plight of humans,
Who spend years in self-confinement,
Convincing their reasoning mind to wait for eternity,
Before relishing the imagined moment,
Where happiness awaits in abundance.

Multitude of such moments,
They live in, unaware,
Are moments like the ordinary,
Where happiness seeks no yearning to readily bloom.

- The Last Nomad