Waterloo Poem by Ali Rahimi

He met his prenatal Waterloo unawares
No battlefield, no arsenal, just fight
The lost war waged by whom?
He was no soldier of fortune
The grips of existential powers
Were too firm for the weary soul
He did the finger pointing though
Was it a paternal or maternal flaw?
Dad's lust or mom's voluptuous body?
Or some untoward act of fate?
Nonplussed, fatigued, disgusted and worn out
He could by no means solve this conundrum
Mustered some energy and shouted:
Oh God! Stop the world, I want to get off!
Waterloo...........