In his late teens and his looks so tense,
He seemed fed up with everybody’s pretence.
Looked like a boy with dreams on his mind,
But his mind itself to him, didn’t seem so kind.
Intelligence he had a little, but he seeked wisdom,
Mediocrity was a sin, a recipe to boredom,
The dream seemed to be – to escape mediocrity’s fiefdom.
I went to him to talk, but he barely expressed any interest,
“You’ve compromised your values” – seemed the verdict from his glancing test,
He was just like me, only from the years of yest.
I was intrigued to meet him, as if a spell he had cast,
I indeed was a dreamer, I had met myself from the past!!!