We’re just enigmas

The stigmas

I don’t understand it

The world, how will I manage

A new generation full of ideas reprimanded


A term become so trivial

Criticized for being convivial

Hatred spread through their material

But we can succeed despite not meeting all of their criterial



Back to it, it's a travesty

My dreams are all a fallacy

Ideas are just inebriated mental faculties

Creativity is an illusion, just a fantasy

Forget your ideas that could discover another galaxy

Throw away the brush that can paint a mental gallery

Understand success in life is based only on this mentality

Your life’s worth is judged by the number of 0s in your salary

“Get a summer job”.


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741