A Pack Full Of Lone Wolves

Where is my youth?
A transparent void of nothingness, with the sole guidance of ‘youth’ to continue venturing as a lone wolf in a pack.
Succumbed to the idea, isolation is the sole route to becoming a part of the pack, for the rest to say:
“Remain in your own world but you shall embody no role but to be gratified by the societal approval of coalescence amidst others like you in this pack.”
Naivety and curiosity, roaming and subduing the young minds, the downfall of a ‘lone wolf’ when carried into its matured state yet, the peal of bells, signalling youth.
Nonetheless, youth has descended upon its emblem, its never-ending, timeless essence, continuing to be the crux of humankind, constantly changing.
The call of instinct, to scroll through the window that displays other peoples cherry-picked moments and achievements,
looking full on the outside but in reality, these windows have been tinted, bleek, like what is left when humans impose their urban environment on nature.
The young pups that cling to the safety of eating cherry from the plants, their growth hindered, making it harder to reach their ideals to become a full, adult wolf.
Youth. Seeing ideals constructed by the pack, without knowing what it takes to reach them...
Ignorance is bliss.
Looking up to an industry of beautiful models who vomit out their breakfast, lunch, and dinner, only to replace it with short-term justification for their ‘hard work’.
Now, I can say where my “youth” is... it's today.

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