Some days I want to submit
Selling my time is easy, no pressure.
A man with more money than he admits
Pays me hourly for short-changed measure.

Other days I want to fight.
Seize the day, stand for my humanness
Give myself my undeniable human rights.
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

But most days I fall under the shroud
I sit back and dream of what I will be.
Each day slipping further into the crowd
Where I sell my time, to someone other than me.

The reasoning of a premature high schooler’s mind,
That someday when I grow up I’ll be something,
That I have dreams to accomplish, and plenty of time.
Truth be told, the clock is ticking, soon there will be nothing.

It’s now or nothing, something or never.
Do I sit back and watch my dreams die?
Do I devise some scheme barely clever?
Or do I say no and actually grab that ladder and climb?

What if instead of just reading you actually wrote?
Or are you afraid your words will be lost?
What if instead of listening you actually spoke?
Or are you afraid of what your words might cost?

Macklemore made it by confessing his sins.
Johnny Cash rose by breaking the status quo.
Chance the Rapper can barely sing, but wrote Blessings.
Do you really think these self-starters submitted?

No.

---

I want to know what you, the reader, thinks. Consider leaving a comment and I will reply!