Too Lost In Stalking

Sitting to talk and gawking.
Too lost in stalking...
Dreams to envision.
And wishes wanting seen,
Appearing like crops to harvest
Without implementation,
To witness them started.
Viewing to demean,
From fixed seats to choose...
Who it is to pick and accuse,
With negative attitudes...
Which ones are not doing,
What they should.
As they preach from seats,
In depleted neighborhoods.

Too lost in stalking,
The few who toil...
Doing their best not to let,
Crabs in a barrel...
Upset the moving of their steps
To undermine and regret.

Too lost in stalking,
Are those aging while fading...
Youthful appearances disappear.
To claim others 'lucky'...
Shown to have shed,
Not only blood, sweat, tears...
But also their fears,
Of being clawed and wounded...
As evidence to prove,
What they've done...
To get accomplished,
Had been done...
To maneuver through,
The ones who preach from seats.
With expertise.
Are more qualified to see,
Those wanting their wants...
And wished dreams to fulfill,
Stalked until...
The doing is defeated.

'All crabs in this barrel,
Making attempts to escape!
Forget it.'
Say those who propose,
Unity efforts to endeavor.

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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