Is this title good enough?

Slowly moving towards our goals we pray the spotlight doesn’t show our blemishes, praying our vivid future keeps a spare room to hide our past, the times we had mansions built at the bottom of liquor bottles. With scars on our faces we pray the elders don’t criticize our decisions towards the future, we prayed for open doors but encountered open bottles instead, mislead our thoughts they vowed it’s safer inside, we’re still here trying to see the greener side.

Stuck at the bottom of the food chain, feeding off inadequate crumps that fall from above, starring at these crumps from a distance at first glance we saw shooting stars, when the opportunity was handed alongside tight contracts.

“I need more coffee...”

“Two sweeteners, I don’t use sugar anymore.”

“Thank you.”