In Praise of Idleness - Bertrand Russell

i wonder why they don't care to wonder

of what wonders i wonder

but i know

it's been ruthlessly sapped of them

never asked of them

so that we don't expect much of each other

and all the while i'm left to my doubts

left with useless drawings and plans

idea's drawn by my undereducated hands

billions of sharpie masterpieces, all with potential

across the many like me

squandered because we've no societal funnel labeled "fringe gold"

i'm not bitter, but hell yes i've been pissed about how rejection boomerangs

how the lack of instructions condemns my choice to be a mercilessly difficult one

i don't think i much differ from those treading well worn paths to solid careers

i think they battle with much the same feelings, fear much the same outcomes

maybe the difference

is that one of my greatest fears

is that i'll modify my dreams to fit everyone else's reality

i don't want to get comfortable compromising and call it maturity