This is another try at my new type of poetry.
Our future
They want us to think
About our future?
How do they
Expect us
To do
That
When
We can't
Even plan
Out our dinner
Much less figure
Out what we want
To be, what we aspire
To be. They expect we are
All dreaming big and imagining
To be a celebrity, or athlete
We aren't permitted to be
Lost. Average. Confused.
When we were young,
It was alright, but as
We aged, they
Changed their
Minds.
Think.
Think.
What do
I want to be?
What do I aspire
To be? Something?
Or nothing at all. A speck
In the grand scheme of our
World. A living reality as our
Reminder that we cannot sit still
For even a moment before opportunity
Leaves us. That is when all hope of finding
Our 'passion' will be gone and we have finally
Stepped foot into the real world. We have
Finally stepped into our future.
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