Trying to decide
Location
I'd like to be an artist. Paint and sing and dance and show my love through colors;
emotion.
I actually dreamed of writing history.
Telling the world of when and how and then;
However being far too young,
way too eager,
They just told me to forget to be a dreamer.
"It's time to put aside all those childish things..,"
"Times are tough, make sure you're ready..."
I've never been more scared.
My generation toughened. Roughened.
They couldn't be more unprepared.
I guess I'm angry. Upset. Disappointed. Neglected. Unimportant.
Now I think and construct better ways of getting that 401k,
Better ways of helping myself with Financial Aid.
A hopeless American, first generation immigrant fate.
When I was young and small, I wanted to be so big.
I wanted to act older.
In my age my heart is smaller, my views are bigger.
Trying to decide the path for the rest of my life,
I've chosen and still I quiver.
I could have been an artist.
A sober Janis Joplin.
I would have amazed and held the awe of thousands.
"Times are tough and they are a'changin..."
This is not what I wanted.