The Molded Race
What do you want to be?
Where do you see yourself in the years to come?
Think about your future
You have to be this; you have to be that
And the list tumbles inevitable on
Doesn’t anyone live, in the moment anymore?
Yes we know that it’s important
To carve our path in history for the future
But are we to lock away our childhood in the process?
I hear it now the tears of our given up past
Locked tightly away in that top draw
It’s time to grow up!
Don’t they know that not everyone can be doctors?
Not everyone was meant to be
Trapped in the thought of studies
If this were so who would write our novels
Dream up our motion picture
Create the paintings that moves us
And leaves us beyond words
We would be left without the simplicity of life
That acts as the binding foundation for all else
There is no denying that we are the future generation
But with this added burden of creating a better tomorrow
Is it forgotten that we need to enjoy the soon to be past?
To create the etch memories that would build the walls in our future
We crave space to breathe to explore to go beyond the boundaries put in place
By the worries of what tomorrow brings
For only then can we formulate a plan for the future
Only then will we see its importance
This binding unspoken law that we each must succeed
Strangles and suffocates who we want to be
In a world were paths are fashioned for us
Asked what we what to be; but ironically
Pushed to be who they think we should be
What determines our success level?
The amount of money we make?
The car we drive?
Or is it based on accomplishing our hearts desires?
Is it structured on the note that each child is special
And has a right to live the way they choose
Without the pressure to be what society thinks they should be
Frowned at for not being perfect
Do they not realize that the simplest minds
Are the foundation for complexity.