The same people who are telling me to think about my future are the same people who constantly say
"You're just a kid"
"You'll change your mind"
"You won't make much money doing that"
Trying to knock the passion out of me
So they can fill the shell
With office jobs and home computers
Casual Fridays
And deteriorating eyesight
My health is not important to them
The corporations will churn us out
Like cattle
I have passion
I am trying to keep it
But even I
Will take a swing.
I am fragile
"Please carry this side up"
"CAREFUL"
I am a package
Of fine imported China
And They
Won't
Stop throwing me.
Someday soon
The package will be opened up
And all they will see
Is dust
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Poems: Aesthete
PoesiHere I churn out my guts for everyone's pleasure, trying to make pain tangible. Trying to make feelings comprehensible. Trying to be somthing.
