The Future


We are born into a world of infinite possibility.

Right from the start we are putty, little balls of soul made of faith and trust and pixie dust

We are the wonders of the world, bright as the Aurora Borealis, mysterious like Stonehenge

The world is our oyster and we are the pearl.

But when we get older, we sell our souls for money and a chance at this thing called a “Future”

Our hearts stop circulating life and start pumping desire

 We trade our possibilities for a probability of failure.

As soon as we grow old enough to broaden our horizons, we’re told to narrow our focus.

Somehow when our brains get bigger, our minds get smaller

I blame it on the Future, on this ideal instilled in our hearts by society that all our tomorrows must look the same and we’re all competing to get there, when our ears are old enough to comprehend we are read the verses of this cutthroat cookie-cutter Bible and we come to realize that success is a college degree, success is a 6 figure salary, success is a heterosexual Christian family, success is climbing your way to the top even if you have to step on some toes to get there because Goddammit, you have a right to win at the game of Life. No one will believe me that it’s not a competition, and maybe that’s why I see everyone around me losing.

Maybe we start to lose our luster because we’re shining so hard that we’re tiptoeing on the brink of combustion.

I feel like I’m going to combust.

I want this future so bad that I live in it, breathe in it, dream of it, and weave the particles of possibility into my soul so I can maybe be one step closer to the desired result.

I have to graduate with a 4.0 so I can go to Harvard so I can get a great job so I can make a lot of money so I can provide for my family so I can make sure my kids have the same opportunity to live my life over again, because wasn’t it so much fun the first time?

I wonder what we look like to God when he peers down at his children from the Heavens. I wonder if God shakes his head and sighs when he sees what we grow up to be. I wonder if that’s why he walked away.

I wonder who created the clock, man or the devil. I wonder if God wanted it that way. I wonder if raindrops are actually tears falling from the angels weeping over our wasted potential.

I sometimes forget about the present, I oftentimes scream at the God so kind as to give me the great gift of “now” but so cruel as to taint it with an impending tomorrow

I sometimes ask God empty questions because I don’t know which is the greater sin: choosing to die or to stay alive, choosing to be successful or to be happy, choosing to live MY dreams or to live THE dream

I run as fast as I can so maybe I can choose both.

I run as fast as I can so I can so I can please myself and my society. I run as fast as I can so I can escape myself and my society.  I run as fast as I can because only kids have time to slow down.  I wish I could reverse this clock that binds me, turn back time to tell myself to stop running, to never start running, to hold onto the spectacular now before it slips through my fingers, to never fall out of love with the present so the world will stay in love with me and maybe I could have that shot at real happiness.

When I was a child, I laughed like a child, dreamed like a child, and smiled like a child. When I was a child, I knew nothing of the future, but at least I knew how to walk. 


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